String and Chewing Gum: Time Travellers
by MagpieDreamer
Summary: The crew of the Andromeda are in deadly danger. Problem is, they don't know it. Luckily for them, their future kids (and a certain android) do. They've seen it all before, and they're not about to let history repeat itself. Zhaniness insues. R&R folks!
1. P1: Chap I: Of Khayos, Hope and Destiny

Summary: The crew of the Andromeda is in deadly danger. From what? They don't know. They don't even know they're actually _in _danger. But there is a small group of people who do. A gang of wild, gutsy, renegade time-travelling teenagers and a certain Android, who have seen it all before, and they're _not _about to let it happen again.

A/N: Okay, so this idea has been kicking around in my head and evolving slowly for about a year now. It started because I wanted to do something that involved making up kids for the Andromeda crew, with all the problems this curtailed. I'd been writing fic for a while and wanted a go at making up my own original characters, if only to see if I could do it properly. Anyway, I made up kids, and wrote about them and stuff, but I just wasn't happy with the way things were going. Also, my 'shipper opinions had changed over the space of time between when I started writing and the present. So, I re-did it a lot, and wrote a lot more, and this... is what happened. Bare in mind it is the first OC fic I've dubbed good enough to post, so be nice to me. :)

Disclaimer: Khayos, Destiny, Hope, Hannah, Shailen and Trident are all my porperty. The other's are not, I'm not making any money, and I don't actually _have_ any money, so _don't sue me_!

**Part One **

**Chapter One: Of Khayos, Hope and Destiny**

_Once I asked the universe to dinner,  
When she failed to yield to Earth's demands,  
'Oh,' she said, 'you tiny little ant form,  
I'm alright, dear,  
I've got other plans.'_

_And we're sad because we think we don't belong here,  
We're guilty 'cause we think we should be scarred,  
Floating in a navy soup, we're sailing,  
There you are, there you are.  
_

Khayos slouched low in his chair, in the cockpit of the Maru, his blue eyes dutifully scanning the various read-outs coming up as the old computer monitored its surroundings. His thick, dark fringe fell into his vision as he leaned forward, and he brushed it back with clumsy, tired fingers, irritated at the distraction.

"Anything?"

Behind him, Destiny had appeared, as neat and immaculate as ever, coppery ringlet's clipped behind her ears, clothes, though old, well suited to her slight frame. Khayos envied his siblings their well-proportioned bodies, their lack of spots or anything that anyone would associate with the pains of puberty. But he couldn't dislike his younger sister for it. He loved her, after all.

"Nothing," the seventeen year old sighed and ran a hand through his wayward hair. His torn, blue and white shirt hung unchecked out of his faded overalls. "Not yet, anyway."

She smiled, dark brown eyes, so similar to their mother's, lighting up. "Can you feel it coming, Kay?" She rubbed at her arms and shifted from foot to foot, excitement welling in her feline expression, "I can. Closer all the time."

Khayos shrugged. He felt it slightly, of course. A vague pressure on the edge of his consciousness, a sense of some impending event. It was a lot less, he knew, than what Destiny and Hope would feel. For they were all their mother's blood. He had the curse of his father's heritage hanging over him, nothing more than a bane as he struggled to be important in their little band of renegade time-travellers.

"Soon the nearing vortex…" he quoted, softly.

"Well don't sound too enthusiastic about it," Destiny rolled her eyes. "We have a chance to save everything, Kay! A chance to take back what was stolen from us, a chance to see mother again! Why aren't you excited?"

"It's not just mother we're going to encounter there," Khayos pointed out. But it was different for her. She had only one parent, after all. Only mother. No second genetic donor to worry about accidentally stumbling across. No anger and pain and confusion to confront in the form of a human father.

Destiny touched his shoulder gently, knowing from experience what would be passing through her elder brother's mind. "You don't have to tell him, when we see him. He needn't think you're anything but pure-blooded star-avatar."

Khayos snorted. "Like anyone would believe that."

"Well you don't exactly look overly human now, do you?" Destiny folded her arms. "I'm no expert on homo-sapien physiology, but I'm pretty sure that they don't come in shades of blue. Or with tales, for that matter."

"Yes but come on, Dessi, look at me!" Khayos leapt up onto his seat and spread his arms wide for judgement, "I couldn't possibly be deliberate! There is nothing I could be but a scrambled, random assortment of genes! Anyone will be able to guess I'm a half-blood! Besides," he sank back into his chair once more, looking as morose as ever, "I have his eyes."

Destiny regarded her elder brother for a few seconds, one eyebrow raised. There was little but a year between them, yet sometimes it seemed so much more. Sometimes she felt herself a millennia younger than he was. Sometimes the other way round.

She could not deny his logic, however. There was no way he could have been 'formed'; drawn from the essence of another, moulded and created right out of his parent's minds, as she and Hope had been. Khayos was a growing, organic being, in a way she could never be. His body was awkwardly shaped; too long, and he moved in it uneasily, as if he had somehow yet to grow into it. His arms and legs were longer than he seemed able to cope with, making him clumsy and uncoordinated. Thick, dark hair which refused to submit to any form of taming hung in rebellious waves around his ears, while those bright blue eyes, that could never have come from their mother's side of the family, watched the world with a nervous, almost accusatory gaze.

Khayos was right. They would be going in on the vague hope that the past Andromeda crew would be too unfamiliar with the way Star-Avatars developed for them to realise he was a polar opposite to everything they were supposed to be.

"Having his eyes isn't such a bad thing," she offered, gently. "They're a nice shade of blue."

Khayos laughed, a bitter ghost of the humour the gesture should have entailed.

"Alright, you two?" Hope appeared in the doorway.

He was a stocky young man, already slightly smaller than Khayos was, but clearly the elder of the pair. His sun-radiant golden skin practically glowed, thick lion's-main of scarlet hair rippling when he moved. He oozed power, strength and confidence, a strong determined warrior, looking no older than twenty. It was a display that made his siblings roll their eyes at least once a day.

Destiny marked, with a cynical quirk of her eyebrows, that his bare chest was on fully apparent beneath his harlequin waistcoat, a sure sign that he was nervous. Hope always went out of his way to make himself look powerful when he didn't feel it.

"Alright, big brother," she answered, with a cordial inclination of the head.

"You think showing that six pack makes you look like a big man, Hope?" Khayos enquired, somewhat less tactfully, a provocative grin twisting across his lips.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," Hope assumed the air of one totally unaffected by his surroundings, "bigger than you, anyway, little brother."

"Oh yeah?" Khayos leapt onto his feet and straightened his back, "who was an inch taller, last time we checked?"

"Height has nothing to do with it," Hope waved him off.

Destiny giggled. Seeing her older brothers digging at one another gave her an odd kind of pleasure. She suspected it was her mother's spirit-essence, of whom she alone amongst the three carried. It made her more likely to feel maternal towards her elder siblings.

"Ah, give it a wrest, will ya?" Hannah swung herself around the entrance of the Maru cock-pit, her crystalline eyes narrowed into cat-like slits, but carrying a playful glint none the less. She was already in combat gear, a rifle slung across her back. "You two bickering are doing my head in! And be nice to my mama's ship! She'd be turnin' in her grave if she knew what you lot have been up to in it! If she'd had a grave to turn in, 'course."

The eighteen year old sat down on a conveniently placed metal crate, took off her rifle and inspected it with a critical eye. She was a rare and wild looking sight, wearing a denim shirt with the sleeves torn out, (Nietzschean bone blades on full display,) and a pair of light parachute trousers that looked as if they had been put through a shredder one-too-many times. Her thick, unwashed, honey-coloured hair was tied and clipped and jelled into something resembling a Mohican, wound through with tiny beaded braids and various coloured dyes. A long, blue-scaled snake wound down her right arm, while various Celtic-looking symbols swirling up her neck and across her cheeks. Her exposed belly-button showed the trailing ends of yet more tattoos, an ouroborus snake, eating it's own tale, looping right round her back.

"We nearly there yet?" She asked, still engrossed in checking her rifle.

"Just about," Khayos answered. He'd seen the disapproving looks Hannah drew any time they ever went near a civilised drift. The tattoos, the bone blades, the gang symbols… it all screamed 'half-breed'. And people didn't like half-breeds.

Personally, though, he thought she was fantastic.

"Ah, the teseract field," Hannah said the words with relish, "ceaseless marvel of marvels!"

"You haven't seen the Rout of Ages," Khayos told her, "you think the teseract field is good…"

"We have to take a day trip there some time," Destiny put in, "you know, sandwiches, cake, road trip, new universe… might be fun."

"The Rout of Ages is not a place to be flippant about, Dessi," Hope reprimanded.

Destiny rolled her eyes. "Oh, so _now_ we have to be careful. This, coming from the guy who gallivants through time practically everyday in an attempt to save a crumbling universe."

"Time travel is different." Hope said, "I, we, were born for that. We feel our way blind, we know what we're doing. Another universe… it's dangerous messing with that kind of thing. Really dangerous."

"Aw, lighten up, boss man." Hannah waved part of the rifle she was now expertly taking apart at their leader. "We get too serious in this business, and we'll all be outta our skulls in an hour."

There was a sudden bleep from the Maru's sensors, and Khayos returned his attention to the monitoring systems. "We're almost in range," he announced.

"Suit up, people!" Hope ordered. "Dessi, tie your hair back, Kay, put on a decent shirt, and Hannah, put that damn rifle back together!"

"Yes, captain, captain sir!" Destiny stood to mock attention and saluted.

Hope ignored her, heading for the intercom, as Khayos and Destiny went to get changed, "Trident, get out of bed! Rommie, Shailen, stay in the engine room!"  
There was a crackle, then the reedy voice of a young boy echoed back tinnily over the transmitter, "aww, Hope! Can't I come, please? Just this once?"

"No way, short man!" Hope answered, "we're almost certainly gonna have to fight our way through a Magog swarm to get to this one, and you aren't going anywhere near those things! Make sure he stays put, Rommie."

"He's not leaving my sight, Hope." The Android's disembodied voice was firm.

"Trident!" Hope hit the intercom again, "Trident, _wake up_!"

Silence.

With a groan, Hope turned round for any likely volunteers, "Hannah! Go wake Trident up!"

Hannah sighed, clicking the last part of her rifle back into place and standing up, "I'm on it."

Hope turned to look out of the Maru's cockpit, at the unnaturally bright blue star they were heading towards, and rubbed his eyes. Then he muttered, to no one in particular, "Well... here we go again."


	2. P1: Chap II: Of Small spaces & Gaurdians...

**Chapter Two: Of Small Spaces and Guardianship**

_She's so bright,  
And then she's gone,  
Don't mind me,  
I'm just sailing,  
On a sunrise,  
It's my favourite thing,  
Oh, when are you,  
Going to realise,  
I don't blame you?  
I never have_.

****

In the darkened underworld of the Maru's engines, a grimy little monkey of a boy crawled out from his nest of blankets and sacking beneath his favourite power generator, and grabbed a can of sparky cola from where the crate wrested a-top the generator.

Crouching down, wresting on the balls of his feet, he shook the can, then cracked it open, the hiss loud in the unnatural stillness of the dark. He sniffed the content, then slurped greedily at the brown sugary liquid, licking his lips.

Somewhere to his left, something moved.

Alert, the boy froze, looking across the space with wide, luminous blue eyes. In the shadows, he could just pick out the figure of someone else crouched low to the ground, trying not to be seen. A blacker shade of black in the darkness. Uneasy, he took another swig of sparky cola, then, slowly, slid backwards beneath his power generator.

The something moved again. The noise was inaudible to most human ears, but the boy had technology on his side as he lay within his den. With the steady firmness of one who had played the part of prey far too many times, he controlled his breathing, evening it until it was shallow and soft. His heart beat slowed to half it's normal speed. He stopped blinking.

Suddenly, something grabbed his left ankle, and, with a yell, the boy was hauled out of his nest and found himself suspended, upside down, looking at the midriff of a severely irritated android.

"I never fall for the same trick twice, Shailen."

Shailen attempted his most pitiful look, "oh please, Rommie, please, please, please? I promise I'll be good! I wont squish any bugs or tell bad jokes or try to take out the bad guys on my own, I promise!"

Rommie was not impressed, "Shailen Penzance Harper, you are _so_ predictable."

"But I promise…" Shailen wheedled.

Rommie hoisted the boy up so they were on eye level. "There are going to be Magog, Shailen. _Magog_. Now I want you to hang there for a minute and consider what that actually _means_."

"You wont make me hang here," Shailen folded his arms, "because all the blood will rush to my head and I will pass out, and you are sworn to protect me, so you can't let that happen!"

Rommie rolled her eyes, "I may have promised your father that I'd look after you, Shailen, but I made no promise not to beat the living daylights out of you for attempting to hurl yourself into the path of an oncoming world-ship!"

"I wouldn't-"

"You would if you got the chance!"

Shailen sighed. She had a point. "Put me down now, please." He requested, meekly.

He was unceremoniously dropped on the floor.


	3. P1: Chap III: Of Brothers and Sisters

Thanks for the reviews everyone!

Sangga: Yeah, this is probably gonna turn into a long one. But I promise I'll see it through!  
  
Prin69: I'm glad you like Hannah! She's definitely one of the strongest OC's I've ever made up, and I have to admit to having a soft spot for her too. I am slightly insane, (just ask my friends), but I don't think I'm dangerous. Or, at least… evil grin not yet.

Callie-Cat: I've deliberately left it kinda vague about which kid's are who's, (although it should all become clear pretty quickly), and here's your more!

NalanaSpinderOfSouls: Thanks! I was a little worried that my characters would end up all over the place in the first few chapters, but, then again, I've been writing these characters a long time before this story started.

Ash: Thanks!

April: You'll learn more about Trident in this chapter. I think he has white teeth... I don't normally concentrate on the condition of my character's dentors when I write them...

Trix: They'll meat their parents soon enough, don't worry. ;) Meanwhile, enjoy the next couple of chapters!

**Chapter Three: Of Brothers and Sisters**

Hannah stuck her head into the little cubby-hole that Trident had made into his sleeping nest. His combat boots were stuck out of the end, and the snuffling half-snore her brother always made when he was sleeping could be heard rattling inside the chamber.

"Yo, li'l bro, rise 'n shine!" She gave his boot a yank, jerking him awake.

"Huh?" He sat up too suddenly, whacking his head off the low ceiling, "ouch! Jeez!"

"Y'know, for a Nietzschean, you really have useless reflexes," Hannah observed, with something like an evil grin.

Trident groaned and rolled over. "Leave me alone, Han…"

"Nu-uh, no can do," Hannah took hold of her brother's ankles and jumped backwards off the ladder she had used to get to him, dragging him crashing down with her.

He yelped as he tumbled free of his blankets, landing on the floor, two meters below. "Cripes, man! Don't do that!"

"Shoulda got up when ya could." Hannah shrugged. "Come on. Teseract's wait for no freak, right? An' Hope wants us suited up an' ready to go, quick as possible. This one's important. You wanna see your dad again, scar-face?"

Trident struggled onto his feet, rubbing his head. "Yeah, yeah, I know." The scars that had earned him the family nick name twisted as he grimaced. A good half of his face was completely disfigured, the skin a livid shade of blood red, mottled and twisted, the left nostril almost flat, the left ear non-existent, one eye staring out in an almost startled expression from the deformed skin.

His combat jacket, scraped together from the remnants of an old high-guard uniform, was already on, and he straightened it self-consciously. He, like Khayos, was reluctant to meat his parents. "How do I look?"

Hannah shrugged, a thin veil of indifference masking the deep fondness she harboured for her half brother. "As good as you always do, Tri."

Trident looked doubtfully at the mirror nailed up next to the ladder leading to his sleeping nest, then carefully flattened his dark, rusty hair. "I'll bet."

Hannah gave his shoulder a gentle punch. "Scar face."

"Rat nose." He elbowed her, half heartedly.

She laughed, "whatever. Now get ready, or Hope'll have ya. And relax. Dad cared enough to haul ya outta your mother's pride when they threatened to disown you. He'll be alright."

Trident sighed. "Yeah. Sure."


	4. P1: Chap IV: Of Waiting and Teseracts

**Chapter Four: Of Waiting And Teseracts**

Khayos crouched in his chair. For some reason, he felt more comfortable on his feet, even whilst sitting down, when they were this close to the danger zone. He whipped his tale round, lashing it from side to side to distract himself, doing a very good imitation of a cat who knows they are about to be flee-sprayed.

"Wouldcha sit down, Khayos?" Hannah demanded, from her seat back on the metal crate, nursing her rifle, "you're makin' me nervous!"

"_You're_ nervous?" Trident demanded, incredulously. "Okay, now _I'm_ nervous."

"Already nervous!" Destiny held up her hand.

"Petrified," mumbled Khayos.

"In denial!" Hope announced, "and I suggest you lot all get there too, 'cause we have to stay focused, okay?"

 Destiny instantly assumed her best flight attendant pose, "ladies and gentlemen, you are now boarding the round flight to Denial-Land, your best bet for a pain free hand to hand battle with those nasty Magog. Please keep your arms, legs, tales and force lances inside the craft at all times, and should you fall out at any point during our journey, please scream in a terrified manner until someone comes to assist you by knocking you unconscious and dragging you into the nearest crate!"

"Thanks for that, Dessi," Hope muttered. Trident sniggered.

The Maru's alert systems bleeped. Deep in the heart of the ship, the first teseract exploded into life.


	5. P2: Chap V: In Which the Crew Ignore Bek...

**Part Two:**

**Chapter Five**

****

_Yep, I'm on a roll. Anyway, yay for my repeat reviewers! Good to know you're sticking with me, here!_

_FlameDancer77: Hey, glad you decided to read my story! (__feels dumb) Ohhhh, so that's where the 'white teeth' thing, comes from.__ I knew it was something like that… man, I haven't had Trident gum for ages. I think they've stopped selling it in the UK, which could be why I missed the reference. Trident was named after the weapon of the mythological Greek ruler of the sea, Poseidon, who used a 'trident' to whip up storms, tidal waves and such-like. It could shatter any material it touched. And no, Trident isn't Tamerlane. Don't worry though, I have bigger plans for that particular Nietzschean prodigal. ;) _

_Callie-Cat: They'll meet their parents soon, don't worry. __ Glad you're still reading!_

_prin69: I'm glad you're still reading! Khayos is probably my favourite of the OC's in this fic, as he was the first one I made up. Trident was named after the weapon of the sea-god Poseidon, which could shatter any material on touch (as I've explained above). _

_NalanaSpinderOfSouls__: Glad to make you laugh! (Destiny's random like that…) You'll find out what happened to Trident's face in later chapters, 'cause it's kinda essential to the plot… ;)_

_Andromeda-Avatar: There's definitely gonna be some interesting interactions between the two Rommie's, especially with current Rommie's reaction to future Rommie's appearance, which you'll read about a little later on ;) _**_  
  
_**__

_A/N: Flash backward to somewhere around late season four (after 'Lost in Space that isn't there' but before 'the Dissonant Interval') This chapter leaves the plot hanging a little, but it is necessary, so bare with me here…_

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

**  
**Beka Valentine hated birthdays.****

Oh, other people's were alright. Parties were sometimes fun, free drink was never a bad thing, cake (so long as it wasn't made by Harper) was always good… It was her own birthdays that she had developed a distaste for.

So it was, that as the day in question drew nearer, she stated in no uncertain terms to each of her fellow crew members that she wanted _no party, no cake, no surprises and no presents_. A simple 'happy birthday' would suffice if anyone absolutely _had_ to acknowledge the occasion.

This, however, did not seem to deter her crew-mates, as, on the morning of the anniversary of her birth, she opened the door to her quarters and found the first of several small tightly wrapped packages sitting just outside the door, with a card on top.

With a sigh, Beka took package and card and carried them back into her room, with the full intention of not opening them at all.

However, curiosity got the better of her, and it wasn't long before she had pulled away the wrapping paper to reveal an odd little trinket, consisting of a loop of ribbon-bound wood strung across with multi-coloured string, threaded with beads and feathers, and dangling sparkling threads.

On opening the card, (with an artist's rendering of a Phoenix on the front) she recognised Trance's neatly decorative hand writing.

_Dearest Beka,_

_Happy birthday.__ It's a dream-catcher. You hang them in your window to stop nightmares. If you're interested, there's a good story behind them. But you mentioned the dreams were getting worse, and I thought you would like this. _

_ Yours, ever faithfully,_

_ Trance._

With a slight smile, Beka placed the card on her bed side table, and went to her cabin window thoughtfully, finding a well placed hook to hang the creation in.

The second parcel was waiting for her on the chair she normally occupied in the mess hall, a small square package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, the envelope of the card smudged with black greasy finger prints, her name in Harper's unmistakable scrawl across the front.

Tucking parcel and card into her pocket, Beka ate breakfast. No one made comment, although she couldn't help noticing the conspiratorial grins that her friends exchanged when they thought she wasn't looking.

Heading back to her quarters after the meal, Beka pulled the string from the present and unwrapped it, finding within the clear plastic casing of an old CD from Earth, of the type she had spent most of her life collecting (and had stolen from her by her brother some years previously.) 'The Rolling Stones: Greatest Hits' Read the title on the cover. Beka vaguely recognised the band's name, and wondered how Harper had managed to get his hands on such a rare gift…

Then she promptly decided it would be better not to ask.

Inside the card (the front of which bore a cartoon strip of a Than and Perseid doing various scientific experiments, all of which ended in explosions involving brightly coloured paint and glitter), she found a line of straggling higgledy-pigglety letters stumbling drunkenly over the page, just about managing to spell out the message:

_Dear boss lady,_

_ Happy birthday! I know you said not to, but I find it healthy to totally disregard your orders at least once a month._

_ Harper_

Rolling her eyes, Beka set the card next to Trance's, and placed the CD next to it, as a reminder to play it that night.

Her third present could be found sitting patiently on her work station, a box of some kind, wrapped in green paper with the commonwealth insignia stamped on it in silver. There was no card, but Beka could recognise Dylan's style anywhere.

She pocketed the package, continuing her duties until her shift was over.

Two hours later, going back to her quarters again, she found another package sitting on a ladder at the end of the corridor leading to the crew's quarters. Silver wrapping paper, sticky tape, a card on top, her name in Rommie's regular, angular script.

In her quarters, Beka opened Rommie's present first, material spilling out of the folds of the paper into her hands, and she found a turquoise top, the sleeves hanging loosely from the bodice, the fabric stretchy and snug but comfortable looking. The kind of thing she liked to wear.

The card read:

_Dear Beka,_

_ I got your size off my database, so this will fit. _

_ Best wishes, _

_ Rommie._

Setting top and card (a 3D, animated holo-image of the inner workings of a computer matrix on the front) aside, Beka turned to Dylan's present.

Pealing back the wrapping, she found the kind of box expensive jewellery comes in, but made of glass. Within could be seen a little decorative clasp, wresting on top of a velvet bed, with a note beside it.

Opening the box, Beka found the clasp to be a pin baring the commonwealth insignia in a sun. A medal, not unlike the one Dylan had awarded Harper a little while back.

The note read:

_The Commonwealth Star, awarded for outstanding bravery above and beyond the call of duty (and putting your life on the line to save my ass way more times than I disserve)._

_ Respect and regards,_

_ Dylan. _

Unable to stop the grin that spread over her face, Beka placed the note next to the other cards, and pinned the medal to her left shoulder. Dylan would almost certainly offer to hand it over more formerly at some point in the near future, but for now she was pleased (and more than a little proud) to have it just as it was.

Heading to the Maru to take a shower (she preferred her own showers to that of the crew ones on the Andromeda), Beka almost crashed into Rhade coming out of the hanger decks in the opposite direction. The Nietzschean was quick to grab the pilot's shoulder to prevent her from falling, a quick apologetic smile flash over his features.

"Sorry," he offered.

Beka quirked an eyebrow. "Telemachus, what were you doing in the hanger bay?"

"Nothing." Rhade answered, a little too quickly.

The other eyebrow joined it's twin in Beka's hairline, "I'm not going to go in there and find another birthday present, now am I?"

"A birthday present?" Rhade's look of complete innocence was disturbingly convincing. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. Actually I was looking for Trance. Have you seen her?"

"Not in the past hour, no." Beka answered, allowing her eyebrows to drop to their normal height. "And right now I have to get some of the grease out of my hair, so, if you'll let me past…"

"Oh, right, yes," he stepped aside, looking oddly sheepish.

She was just stepping into the hangar bay when she heard him call after her, "Beka?"

She went back to the door and looked out to see Rhade standing at the end of the corridor, "yeah?"  
Rhade smiled slightly, inclining his head. "Happy birthday."

Beka did her best not to allow the smile that threatened to tug itself into existence around the corners of her mouth to show. Rhade caught the expression of almost surprised gratefulness coupled with pleased amusement, one which he had learned and carefully filed under 'R' for 're-_sult_', some time ago, and allowed himself to feel vaguely pleased, before turning on his heal and disappearing away, as fast as he could.

Sure enough, within moments of stepping onto the Maru, Beka located a small, blue wrapped package sitting on top of a work surface just inside the ship. A card had been propped up beside it.

Slitting the envelope, Beka found the card to have a holographic image of the slip stream, endlessly looping and spinning and twisting across the front. Inside was the simple message:

_Beka,_

_ Happy birthday,_

_ Rhade_

"A man of few words," Beka observed to herself, wryly. Placing the card aside she turned her attention to the present.

It was not much bigger than Dylan's had been, and the packaging was just as meticulously done. Curious, Beka slid her thumb nail beneath the tape and pulled the blue paper away, doing her best not to rip it. Within was another jewellery box, but covered with midnight blue velvet this time. The catch flipped back easily, and Beka was left to look in amazement at the content.

It was a bracelet. Three interlinking silver chains, holding in place several shimmering blue stones, little gems set into star-shaped silver holdings. Between these were other, smaller blue gems. The clasp was a trio of the blue gems in three interlocking silver stars, which snapped together.

"Oh boy…" Beka held the bracelet at arms length. Why, oh why, had Rhade bought her this? It looked _very_ expensive. _Too_ expensive, especially for a gift between friends.

What was Rhade up to?


	6. P2: Chap VI: In which the Andromeda Girl...

**Chapter six: In Which the Andromeda Girls Consider **

_FlameDancer77: Thanks! I don't normally write Beka (my speciality is Trance), so I was a little nervous it would come off as out-of-character. We will get back to the kids soon, but I have to set up what's going on in the present for a couple of chapters before getting back to them in the future, for reasons which will soon become clear._

_Callie-Cat: My idea for the previous chapter started with a fic I tried to write waaaay back when I first watched 'Drom in it's first season. It was inspired by a line that Beka has in the episode where she gets hooked on Flash (I think it's 'the pearls that were his eyes'). She was talking to Dylan about how he didn't feel like celebrating his birthday, and she said something along the lines of not like birthdays either, every year there were more behind and less in front. I wanted to do a fic about this, but I never got it finished and it was pretty crudy anyway. However, the idea came back to haunt me for this story, so I re-wrote it, and that's why Beka doesn't like birthdays! (Phew, that was a long explanation…) _

_Ash: Thanks! I will!  
  
_

_Prin69: Thank you! I don't think I've ever been put on someone's fave list before… :D Anyway, you'll get more on the bracelet in this chapter too, so keep reading and enjoy! _

_Andy: Thanks! A couple of people are saying they like Hannah, and I have a soft spot for her too. I do normally write long chapters, but actually I've been forced to divide these into much shorter ones, because each 'part' was meant to be one chapter, but I realised that that would make the chapters mega-huge, and also there would be much longer between each update. _

_A/N: All the planet names and references in this chapter are cannon and exist on the show. (Feels proud) I researched them myself! _

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"Wow." Rommie scrutinised the bracelet with her sensitive artificial eyes. "Beka, this is really expensive."

"You know, that hadn't occurred to me." Beka quipped, sarcastically.

"Perhaps you should talk to Rhade about it," Trance suggested.

All three were in their usual cubby-hole on the Maru, reserved for their 'girl-talk' nights. Rommie and Trance had both taken up residence in their respective hammock seats, while Beka was sat, cross legged, on a cushion chair.

"Talk to Rhade?" Beka raised a sceptical eyebrow, "why? I mean… it's just a birthday present, right?"

Trance rolled her eyes, "a birthday present that will have cost him the equivalent of a month's salary!"

"I wasn't kidding when I said this was expensive," Rommie put in, "Beka, this metal is silver. _Real _silver. It must have come from Earth, and they ran their mines dry over six centuries ago. This piece is from at least two centuries before the fall. And these gems are Skystones. They come from Tarn Vedra. That makes them _extremely_ rare and_ extremely_ expensive. A bracelet full of them wont have just cost Rhade a month's salary, it will have cost him six, and that's if he got it off a blind street vendor who had no idea what he was dealing in. Not to mention how long it will have taken him to find something like this. You realise what you've got here is an artistic representation of the slipstream?"

"How do you figure?" Beka asked, frowning.

Rommie held up the bracelet, "the chains are the three main routes used in the days of the old commonwealth. The larger gems, the ones set in the star shapes, represent the five main stopping points, Tarn Vedra, Tarazed, San-Ska-Rei, Sinti and Diphda V. The smaller gems are other smaller but just as significant stopping points, Machen Alpha, Makrai VII and Krishnamurti, for example. These bracelets were very popular in the days before the fall, especially among pilots, who would wear them to show firstly their profession and secondly how rich they were. These days, this sort of jewellery is virtually unheard of. It disappeared with Tarn Vedra."

Beka made a face, "So, I have a very expensive, very rare bracelet from a Nietzschean commander who's intentions are unknown. Well, I feel reassured."

"At least you know you're forgiven," Trance pointed out.

"Forgiven?" Beka looked at the golden woman.

Trance shrugged, "the bio-armour incident?"

"Ah." Beka grimaced.

"Trying to rip a guy's heart out is bound to put a damper on the relationship." Rommie agreed.

"He has a hand shaped bruise right across here," Trance placed a hand over her heart to illustrated, "it's still there! If you'd pressed any harder, any longer and…"

"I get it!" Beka cut her off.

Trance looked apologetic, "sorry."

Beka took the bracelet back from Rommie and clipped it over her wrist. "I have to think about this."


	7. P2: Chap VII: In which the plot comes ba...

Chapter Seven: In Which The Plot Comes Back From it's all Expenses Paid Holiday to the Bahama's, Makes a Brief Appearance, and Promptly Falls Asleep Again.

A/N: This is really two chapters which I murged into one because the first was so phenomenally short…

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Dylan was walking from the obs deck to command, when he saw the boy.

He stood in the middle of the corridor, a little child, perhaps only eight or nine years old. Hideous scarring twisted across the left half of his face, thick black hair hanging over dark eyes. Half grown bone blades protruded from his shirt sleeves.

"Hey," said the boy, holding to him what looked like a model battle ship. He looked a little puzzled, but Dylan's presence didn't seem to surprise him.

"Hi." Dylan took a few steps towards the boy, frowning. "Are you… okay?"

"I'm okay." The boy nodded, looking around him. "I feel kinda weird though. Did you see the blue wave?"

"Blue wave?" Dylan took another few steps forward. "What kind of wave?"

"It was… all made of light." The boy waved his hand. "It took me from over there to here. Are you sure you didn't see it?"

"I'm… pretty sure…" Dylan was starting to get a horrible sense of deja-vous. Surely not the teseracts again…?

The boy suddenly frowned, looking directly at Dylan. "Did you change your clothes since breakfast?"

Dylan never got the chance to answer. A teseract burst into life around them, and before the Starship captain could blink, the child was gone, and he was alone again.

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"I'm telling you, it was a teseract!" Dylan cried, from where he was sat on the edge of the bed in med bay. "There was a boy, a Nietzschean, right there, and then… he wasn't."

"What did he look like?" Trance asked, sounding interested, as she shone a light into Dylan's eyes.

"Oh, I don't know," Dylan ran a hand distractedly through his hair, "he was about… so high, looked about eight or nine, black hair, and he had this scarring all over the one side of his face, like… a burn, I think… except it looked… I don't know, alright?"

"It is possible that the residual effects of the teseract machine could still be happening," Rommie pointed out, "even now, we have no idea how far into the future the waves passed."

"But there have never been Nietzschean children on board," Dylan said, blinking as Trance took the light away, "the child must have been from the future. And if the waves are from the past, surely they'd be bringing things from the past forward, not things from the future backward?"

"You weren't hallucinating," Trance told him, showing him the results from her initial neural scans.   
  
Rommie shrugged, "I still know very little about teseracts, or the way they work. For all I know, what you saw could be perfectly possible."

"It wasn't the teseract machine." Trance stated, calmly.

"Trance?" Dylan glanced at the medical officer.

Trance only tilted her head to one side slightly, dark eyes shimmering with some knowledge, not quite visible.

The wrest of the crew were witness to what had become known amongst them as the 'Significant Look', the look that Trance and Dylan used to communicate something the others could only guess at. It was starting to irritate Harper, because he knew that Dylan probably knew something about Trance the others didn't. Maybe even what she was, where she came from. Somehow, he'd always thought that that was _his_ right. That he, Harper, should have been the one who she told.

"I… uh… I got stuff to do." He said, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Yeah, me too," Beka decided.

Rommie quietly accompanied Harper from the room.   
  
Rhade glanced at the backs of his departing crew members, then promptly followed them. "I should get back to my station."

As the doors of the med bay slid shut behind them, Trance smiled slightly. "Funny, how they always do that."

"Subtle." Dylan agreed. He folded his arms and watched as the avatar placed her instruments away. "So, tell me, if it wasn't the teseract machine, what was it?"  
  
Trance paused, and Dylan could almost see her thinking, considering and calculating how much to tell him, all the possible outcomes, what she wanted to happen. "The teseract you saw came from the future," she began, slowly, "I believe around ten years from now. I have seen many futures, Dylan, and I think I know who the boy you described is… or… will be, but if he was here, it means that something much larger is coming. That teseract was most likely the beginning of a controlled series of them. Someone from the future is trying to effect the past."

"From the boy's time?" Dylan asked.

Trance shook her head. "From beyond his time. If you encounter him again, it will most likely be as a young adult, perhaps even older. I cannot be sure exactly where the teseracts are coming from, but I believe them to be from at least twenty five years into the future."

"So…" Dylan waved his hand, "our… children's time?"

"The next generation." Trance agreed. "I do not know whether what is trying to be altered happens now, or in a few years, but… well, things could get interesting, soon enough."


	8. P2: Chap VIII: In Which A second Teserac...

Chapter Eight: In Which A Second Teseract is Encountered, and Beka and Rhade Talk.

Alternatively entitled: In which the plot is given a heft boot up the backside by the irritated author, but still refuses to wake up.

A/N: Right! This is it! This story is now officially the longest story I have ever written! And it's not even halfway finished!

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The second teseract happened as Beka, Rhade and Harper were sitting down to eat in the mess hall as their shifts finished.

One minute they were surrounded by laughing, talking, eating members of the Andromeda's crew, the next there was a blue flash of crackling light, a freezing draft followed by a blast of warm air and the mess hall was all but empty. In place of the crew there were three children, all gathered round a table about ten feet away from where Beka, Rhade and Harper were sat.

Standing on the table was a girl, about twelve years old, long reddish-gold hair falling in lots of braids past her shoulders, wielding a model starship. Her arms bore the beginnings of a set of Nietzschean bone blades. Standing round the table was another Nietzschean, a boy this time, not much younger than the girl, a small girl who could only be one of Trance's people, her skin a sunset pink, a long tail twitching, and a shy looking boy who was clearly some relation of her, though he was dark blue and far taller.

The little group froze. The girl on the table narrowed her eyes, fixing Beka with a long, strangely familiar gaze. The little pink girl began to speak but the blue boy promptly clamped his hand over her mouth. Rhade just heard him mutter, "don't say a word," before there was another blinding flash, hot air followed by cold air this time, and the crew was back, the mess hall full.

Harper dropped his fork. "You two just saw that, right?"

"Oh yeah." Beka looked pale. "That… wasn't normal."

"Perhaps that was a teseract?" Rhade suggested.

Harper rolled his eyes, "well chalk one up to Nietzschean intelligence, 'cause we have a winner!"

"But kids?" Beka frowned, "there have never been kids on board!"

"Then we can only assume they came from the future." Rhade shrugged.

"Or we came from the past," Harper shrugged. Seeing the blank looks he got from the pilot and commander he sighed and elaborated, "I think we were the ones invading their time space. For a second we were catapulted into the future, the way the uh… original Andromeda crew were when the teseract machine was active."

"Then why just us?" Beka looked around her, as if expecting see the crew disappear again at a moment's notice, "why wasn't everyone there?"

"Who knows?" Harper dismissed it. He was already going back to his food. "Hey, is this pasta? Man, we haven't had anything from Earth in ages!"

Rhade and Beka exchanged a glance. Rhade raised an eyebrow. Beka raised one back.

"I think we should report this to Captain Hunt," Rhade promptly stood up, followed almost instantly by Beka.

"Me too."

Harper shrugged, "okay, please yourselves… hey, can I have your pasta?"  
Beka regarded the unappealing mass of carbohydrates on her plate that Harper called 'pasta'. "Knock yourself out."

"Thanks, boss." Harper promptly began shovelling the food onto his tray.

"Shall we?" Rhade indicated Beka could go first.

Beka, oddly pleased by his chivalry, moved away from her place at the table, and the pair made a swift exit.

Out in the corridor, Beka instantly regretted her actions. Now she was left alone with the one person she had been desperately avoiding for the past twenty four hours.

"Andromeda," Rhade called to the air, "where is the captain?"

"Dylan is currently on the command deck." The answer came back in Andromeda's cold, clipped voice.

"Tell him we just… experienced something odd." Rhade said. "We're coming to him."  
  
Andromeda's holographic self promptly blinked into existence, "another teseract?"

"Well it wasn't Harper suddenly sprouting six inches." Beka answered, dryly.

The hologram allowed itself what might have been a smirk before disappearing again, presumably to relay the message to her captain.

Thirty seconds later, as the pilot and commander got to the relevant deck for the bridge, the hologram appeared again, "the captain requests you meat him in his office to discuss this."

Beka groaned inwardly. That was another six decks away! A good five minutes with the Nietzschean commander. And Rommie wouldn't let her away with not discussing that stupid bracelet. Why had Rhade given it to her? What did he _want_?

And _why_ had she put it on that morning?

Subconsciously, her hand went to her left wrist, feeling the delicate ornament beneath her sleeve.

"Did you like it, then?"

Beka looked round in surprise at the commander. Okay, a Nietzschean who took matter into his own hands. In some instances, that might have been nice. Unfortunately, now was not one of those times.

"What?"

"The bracelet." Rhade shrugged. "Did you like it?"  
Beka looked back at him as she rounded a corner, then shrugged, "yeah, sure… it was…" She trailed off, and sighed, "Rhade, why did you give it to me? I had Rommie look at it. Those gems are Skystones. One alone would have cost you what… a month's salary? You got me a piece of jewellery full of them!"

That rather irritating benign smile crept over Rhade's face, "I thought you might appreciate it more than the Nietzschean hoarders from Maroon pride would. Luckily for me, I don't think they quite realised what they had, or they would never have agreed to sell."

"I see." Beka stored this information.

"And you never answered my question." Rhade added.

"What?"

"Do you like it?"

"Oh." Beka's hand went back to her wrist, and she smiled, suddenly, "yeah. Yeah, I do. Thanks."

"You're welcome."


	9. P2: Chap IX: In Which Harper has Visions...

**Chapter Nine**

A/N: Okay, first of all, a major apology to you guys. I haven't updated in two weeks, 'cause I've been in the Czech republic. I meant to get a final few chapters up before I left but a power cut meant I couldn't do that, and I couldn't get my lap-top on-line while I was away. Anyway, I'm back, and I've done a hell of a lot of writing recently, so there's a major up date on the way. Here's a few chapters to keep you happy till I've got the wrest beta-read. ;)

Sangga: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! I hope you get who's who soon!

marymelon3: Yeah, i kept you hanging... but that doesn't happen too often!

free flyer: Lotsa people like Hannah.... wonder if you'll like what I've got planned for her... Ah well, enjoy the next few posts and keep reviewing!

CeredwenFlame: Good! Keep following!

ANS4Christ: Glad you decided to read! Don't worry, Shailen isn't in it much at the beginning, but you'll see a lot of him later, 'cause he's got one seriousely pivitol roll in the plot... ;) Anyway, keep reading and reviewing!

morgan trixie: Thanks! I'm updating like a bat out of hell here, so don't worry... ;)

ChicaFrom3: Like I said, Shailen's very important, so you are going to see more of him. All in good time, though...

Callie-Cat: Hey, Cat! Glad you're sticking with me here, and you like the little Beka/Rhade thing I've got going on. There is a lot more where that came from! :D

prin69: Mmmm... kidnapping Steve Bacic... sounds like fun... (evil grin)... uh... anyway... Thanks for the review!

FlameDancer77: Thank you! I had a little fun with Trance and Dylan's bit, and yeah, the kids'll be back soon enough... ;)

Phew! That's all of ya... right! Here we go! Enjoy!

In Which Harper has Visions of Fatherhood

Harper had finished his meal and was back in the machine shop, tinkering with one of his latest projects, when the third flash back in under twenty four hours occurred.

Having dropped a bolt, Harper reached beneath a piece of machinery to retrieve it, but realised it was just beyond his reach. Frowning, he lay down flat and groped blindly beneath the gap, squinting as he tried to see. Concentrating as he was, he barely noticed the blue flash, the blast of hot and cold air, and the sudden abrupt shift in time zones. But as he came up to retrieve a torch, he stopped, suddenly realising that this was not the machine shop he had been in five seconds previously.

It was cleaner, neater, more organised. Gone were the hanging electrical wires, the discarded cans of sparky cola, the pools of spilled electrical fluid, the black greasy finger prints, the various bits and pieces of discarded parts strewn across the floor. The machine shop door was open, and, as Harper watched, he saw something which nearly made his heart stop.

It was him.

Older, though, nearly middle aged. With a cruel, thin scar down one cheek. The older him was standing just outside the open doorway, then crouched down, holding out his arms to something   
unseen, a bright smile suddenly lifting his features.

"Come on then, sparky, come to daddy, come on!"

Harper watched, transfixed, as, slowly, step by wobbling, stumbling step, a little child toddled into view. A boy, with a nest of dark, wild hair, and round, chubby cheeks, little hands outstretched as he struggled to reach his father. From just out of sight, Harper could hear encouragement from a female counterpart, (the boy's mother, surely?) who must have been crouching just the other side of the door, probably the toddler's starting point.

"Come to daddy, baby, come to daddy," the older Harper encouraged, "come on, almost there, that's it, just a little further…"

Harper held his breath as the little boy stumbled, but caught himself with his hands, and struggled up again, a look of infantile determination etched on his young features.

Finally, with one last jolting movement, the boy fell into his father's waiting arms, and the older Harper swept his son up off his feet, laughing, "there's my boy! There's my little freakin' genius! Who's my little genius? Who's daddy's little Einstein?" The baby chortled, looking rather pleased with himself. "You see that, Rom-doll?" The older Harper asked the unseen woman, "look at our kid! Bet he's the smartest one year old who ever came into existence!"

Then, to Harper's astonishment, Rommie suddenly appeared, looking smug. "Well, he _is_ the greatest scientific break-through since the discovery of the slipstream." She kissed the little boy gently.

And then, just like that, they were gone. Blue light crackled around him, and Harper was back in his machine shop, in his time, staring at the closed machine shop door.


	10. P2: Chap X: In Which a Meeting Is Held

**Chapter Ten: In Which A Meeting is Held**

****

**Alternatively Titled: In Which the Plot is taken by the ears and shaken until it begins to consider waking up...**

****

"Boss, it just happened again!" Harper came charging through Dylan's office door.

Rhade and Beka, who had been in the middle of explaining the mess hall experience to him, both looked round. Dylan raised his eyebrows at the agitated seeming engineer. "Mr Harper?"

"Teseract!" Harper waved his arms, "right there! In the machine shop! Just now! I was… I was in the future… and… and I saw… I saw…" he stopped, as if the enormity of what he had witnessed had only just fully dawned on him, "I think I saw my son. I was teaching him to walk!"

"Okay…" Beka frowned, looking from Dylan to Harper and back, "Dylan, I don't know about you, but three teseracts in one day? This feels like a little more than the residual effects of a machine we built over two years ago."

"I know." Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose. Now seemed like a good time to have another little chat with Trance about that 'something big' she thought might be heading their way. "Alright. Andromeda!" The hologram appeared next to his desk.

"Yes, captain?"

"I want all the crew confined to their quarters until further notice. We don't want anyone being sucked into a future they can't escape from," Dylan ordered, "and have Rommie and Trance meat us in the briefing room. It's time to work out what's going on here."

"Aye, captain," the hologram disappeared again.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was nervous. Harper was still struggling to comprehend what he had seen in the machine shop. Beka was running a finger between her bracelet and her wrist, distracting herself, as Rhade tugged at the sleeves of his uniform. Even Dylan seemed uneasy, as he turned to Trance, sitting on his right.

"Alright, Trance, tell us what you know."

The others didn't seem surprised that Trance should know what was happening. After all, she always seemed to know _something_ they didn't.

Trance spent the next ten minutes repeating what she had said to Dylan in the medical bay; how the teseracts seemed to be coming from the future; how it was likely that something from that future was attempting to affect the past; how these teseracts were likely the run-up to something much larger.

"So… what?" Harper spread his hands, "we wait for some psychotic weirdo with a chip on his shoulder to drop out of the future and start making 'altercations' with a rocket launcher?"

Trance shrugged. "I don't know how exactly whoever is try to effect the past is planning on going about doing so. It is very likely that whatever has to be done can be done through the teseracts from the future."

"Oh, great, so we just wont _see_ the psychotic weirdo with the chip on his shoulder." Harper said.

Trance rolled her eyes, "as I have said, the teseracts are being _controlled _somehow. Anyone who has managed to create a device that can control teseracts to allow them to get to specific times and places will almost certainly have learned very early on that time is a very dangerous thing to mess with. Trying to alter something in history is like trying to… thread a needle. Only with really thick thread and a really tiny, tiny little needle. Whoever is doing this will be… _meant_ to do this. They will know what they are doing."

"So no psychotic weirdoes." Harper realised.

"No." Trance agreed.

"Which leaves us… where?" Dylan asked.

Trance gave him her 'I'm-gonna-pretend-to-be-all-knowing-but-I'm-really-all-out-of-ideas' look, and said, "all we can do is keep doing what we normally do."

Almost on cue, an alert sounded from somewhere in the Andromeda's systems. Rommie frowned, her eyes flicking back and forth as her core AI relayed some information. "Captain, I…" she frowned, and suddenly a look of pure horror marred her features, "Magog! In the hangar decks!"


	11. P3: Chap XI: Of Teseracts and Rock Music

**Chapter Eleven: Of Teseracts and Rock Music**

**Alternatively Titled: In Which the Plot is fired out of a canon into the stratosphere and finally _kicks in._****__**

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_We were meant to live for so much more,_

_But we lost ourselves,_

_Somewhere we live inside,_

_Somewhere we live inside,_

_We were meant to live for so much more,_

_Have we lost ourselves?_

_Somewhere we live inside. _

_We want more than this world's got to offer,_

_We want more than this world's got to offer,_

_We want more than the wars of our fathers,_

_And everything inside,_

_Screams for second life,_

_Yeah._

_We were meant to live for so much more,_

_But we lost ourselves,_

_Somewhere we live inside,_

_Somewhere we live inside,_

_We were meant to live for so much more,_

_Have we lost ourselves?_

_Somewhere we live inside. _

Hannah's rock music was thumping through the Maru. She always played it when they were in the 'tween, the non-time and anti-space between teseracts, waiting to arrive in a specific time zone. Depending on how precise they needed to be, it could take anywhere between five minutes and an hour. But they always had to be ready, should anything unpleasant happen to find its way on board, and, considering the amount of unpleasant things the Maru had encountered during it's time on the Andromeda, the likelihood of such an event occurring was high.

Trident had an urge to head for the communal quarters and start beating a tattoo on his drum kit, if only for the stress relief. Crouched in his chair, Khayos was thudding his head to the heavy bass beat of 'Nickleback', whoever they were. Hannah's antique record collection, which she had taken over from her mother when she died, was vast and varied. But it served as a distraction.

The two seventeen year olds were in charge of monitoring the teseracts from the cockpit. While Trident beat out a rhythm on his consol, Khayos's keen blue eyes darted swiftly over the Maru's readouts. "Next teseract in three… two… one…"

A blue wave of crackling light blasted through the Maru, making the entire structure shudder, metal bolts groaning in protest. Then came the sound they had all been dreading. A screeching, howling, blood-chilling sound.

"Khayos, duck!" Trident was on his feet with a force lance in his hand before the teseract had left.

Khayos flung himself off his chair and flattened himself just in time for a Magog to go flying past him, hissing in fury. Trident fired twice, killing the creature the second time, before diving for the com. "We have Magog!"

Hannah appeared in the doorway, dragging the still-twitching body of another of the creatures, "ya think?!"

Hope's voice came over the com, "Khayos, we have to get rid of the Magog! If we arrive in the time zone, we'll end up bringing them with us!"

"I'm working on it!" Khayos yelled back, already back at his station, frantically flicking switches as he felt for the next teseract, "but it may be too late for that! We're only two teseracts away!"

"Well, this aughta make a good first impression!" Hannah cried, taking aim at another Magog as it appeared in the doorway to the cockpit, "hey mom! It's great to be here, haven't seen you in a while, but what the hey, we brought some nice friendly dinner guests!"

"Hannah, this is no time to be flippant!" Hope could be heard not only over the com but in the room just beyond the cockpit, accompanied by more squealing magog and blaster fire.

"I wasn't being flippant!" Hannah called, loosing a blaster bolt into the chest of another Magog.

"Yes you were!"

"Was not!"

"For God's sake, you two!" Trident fired his force lance at an encroaching monster and ducked as Hannah took one out behind him, "we're up to our necks here! Argue when we _aren't_ about to be eaten alive!"

Khayos flipped another switch, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, "next teseract in three… two… one!"

Blue light swept through cargo freighter, followed by a very nasty crunching sound.

"Khayos, what was that?" Hope demanded, suddenly appearing through the cockpit doors, still being defended by Hannah and Trident.

"Aw, crap!" Khayos felt panic rise like bile in his throat.

"Khayos, answer me!" Hope ordered.

Khayos hardly looked up, frantically making adjustments to the consoles around him, his tale thrashing wildly in fear, "I think we just lost our main drive!"

"What?!" Hope stared at his younger brother incredulously.

"The teseract drive is gone!" Khayos slammed his fist down onto a console in frustration, "it just blew itself out! We're stuck!"

"You did not just say we're stuck!" Hannah cried. "Where the hell are we?!"

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it!" Khayos waved a hand at her.

"Well, our nice friendly dinner guests seemed to have decided to stay!" Trident observed, over the rock music and screeching Magog, killing another by extending his force lance and spearing it.

Hope ran a desperate hand through his hair, "alright. Kay, get us into a time zone, as close as you can, I don't care how you do it, just get us there! Trident, stay here and cover him. Hannah, with me, we've gotta get rid of these Magog!"

As the older pair departed, Trident positioned himself firmly in the middle of the cockpit doorway, dropping into a ready stance. Clenching his fists, his bone blades flared upright instantly, and he squared his shoulders. Khayos glanced back at his friend, and felt a little safer. Nothing was getting past Trident.

Khayos knew teseracts. He knew how they worked, on an instinctive level that was very hard to describe. In the same way Hope knew how to navigate possible futures to arrive at the right one, and Destiny knew how to find people, no matter where, or when, they were, so Khayos could work his way through the teseracts. He knew both Hope and Destiny would feel them coming and going, probably more than he did. But Khayos alone could jump easily from one to the next, could predict exactly when and where the next one would dump them. This was what he did. It was why his mother had named him as she had. Teseracts _were_ chaos, and that was where he thrived.

Now, however, his senses were scrambled, and he was desperately grasping at the last threads of intuition. Without the drive they had installed in the Maru's heart, they were floating free, completely at the mercy of the teseract field itself. If they were going to get out of this one intact, let alone anywhere near the place they had intended to end up, he was going to have to be very, very careful. One wrong move and they were soup, quite literally.

This was gonna be like threading a needle, with really thick string and the tiniest of needles.

"You okay, Khayos?" Trident asked, calling over his shoulder as he guarded the door.

"Fantastic." Khayos answered, sarcastically. He could feel another teseract, and knew it was now or never. They would have to ride this one out if they wanted to end up where they needed to be. It would at least, he reckoned, place them within about ten or twenty years of their target, which wouldn't be too bad. Except they would have to wait ten or twenty years for what they wanted to do to actually happen…

He grabbed his com, "alright people, hold on, this is gonna be rough! Next teseract in three… two… one!"

The teseract hit the ship with a violence that seemed to shake the vessel to it's core. Khayos heard Trident knocked off his feet, but bit his lip, ignoring it, feeling time and space merge into one sickening blur around him. "Engaging slipstream drive!" With a juddering groan the slipstream drive powered up, pitching the Maru off it's course, and, abruptly the slipstream ignited into existence all around them. It was going through them, over them, around them. Khayos could see outside the ship, could see his own insides, could see Trident's heart beating, could see the magog crawling all over the ship, could see time itself spinning away from them.

And then, with a jerk that flung him from his seat, they were pitched out of the 'tween back into reality, into the universe, into time itself. Khayos sat up, gasping for breath, and hauled himself up to peer nervously out of the Maru's viewing screen.

He found himself looking at the inside of the Andromeda's hangar bay.

"We're here," he whispered.


	12. P3: Chap XII: Of Magog and uh Magog

**Chapter Twelve: Of Magog and uh… Magog**

A/N: Right! Here we are! That big update I promised you? This is it! Hold onto your hats people!

Andy: Glad you're still with us! I was in the Czech republic for two weeks, so I guess we were both away! Anyway, I'll get even more 'into the heads' of the kids as we go on. Between them, believe me, they have enough issues to keep every psychologist in the country employed for the wrest of their lives...

Callie-Cat: They're all gonna meet soon, don't worry! Keep reading and reviewing!

prin69: Hey! Yeah, I really liked the song (very Nietzschean) too, that's why I put it in. i thought it said alot about the kid's situation, how they were doing this thing that really shouldn't be happening to them... anyway, keep reading!

FlameDancer77: Thanks. There's gonna be a couple of parallel moments like that. Anyway, about your question? The Rommie that appeared in the teseract, the present Rommie and the future Rommie are all one and the same, except older and more... grown up. I'm trying to write Rommie as someone who's had to do a lot of seriouse evolving emotionally. Future Rommie is a lot more emotionally orientated than present Rommie. The present Rommie is holding onto her identity as an Android, she's definitely not human and she doesn't want to be, however the future Rommie has had to embrace her humanity in order to love her adopted son, Shailen, and the other kids. She's basically had to raise all of them since their parents died, and in doing so she basically became a mother. That made her far more emotional, she's very nurturing and caring, perhaps 'softer' than the present Rommie, but I think she also sees herself as being more mature than her younger self. I'm gonna do a chapter that deals with all of this, so it should become clearer. Hope that answers your question!

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Following Dylan down to the hangar bay, Trance suddenly stopped, her eyes widening.

Dylan looked back at her. "Trance?" She looked… surprised. An expression he had never seen her wear before. He wasn't entirely sure he liked it. "Are you okay?"  
  
Trance shook her head, as if try to dispel something, "yes. Yes, it's nothing. I'm fine." But inside, she was churning. This was impossible. This was… yet… yet he was here, something she hadn't seen coming, and he was here. "Dylan?" They had arrived at the entrance of the hangar bay, with several other security squads.

"Yes?" He again turned to look at her.

Trance pointed at the doors. "Whatever is in there is… different. Just… we have to proceed with caution."

"Alright…" Dylan frowned slightly and turned back to his security squads. "Listen, all of you. Behind these doors is an entire swarm of Magog. Now, I have no idea how they got there, but they are damn-well not staying there. I want every last one of those things destroyed, is that understood?" There were grim nods amongst the teams. "Good." Dylan squared his shoulders and faced the hangar bay doors. "Andromeda, open the doors."

The doors had barely slid apart before Dylan was jumped on, a Magog diving out of the shadows and flattening the captain. Luckily for him, the magog promptly had ten force lance blasts emptied into it's back. Dylan shoved aside the dead monster and stood up. "Well, so much for caution. Troops, go!"

The security teams wasted no time emptying into the hangar deck, Andromeda closing the doors behind them to prevent any of the creatures escaping. Dylan, Trance, Rhade and Rommie headed into the thick of it, Beka heading for where the Maru was still crouched, uneasily, in the very centre of the swarm. Using various crates and bits of debris for cover, the Andromeda security teams made their stand.

"Dylan!" Beka's yell caught the high guard captain's attention as he shot another Magog in the chest and ducked a blow from another.

He glanced back at his second in command. "Yeah?"  
  
Beka pointed at the Maru. "That isn't my ship!"

"What?!" Dylan demanded, over the cacophony.

"It's not my ship!" Beka repeated. "It's the Maru, but it isn't my one!"

"Are you saying this entire hangar bay has been teseracted into the future?" Dylan yelled.

"That's not it!" Trance corrected, from somewhere to his left. "I think that Maru has been teseracted into the past! Our present! These Magog just… hitched a lift!"

"Hitch hikers get uglier every year!" Beka quipped.

"So who's on the Maru?" Dylan asked.

Almost in answer to his question, the Maru's hatch fell open, and the bodies of three Magog tumbled out, followed closely by their heads. Leaping down the ramp after them, bearing one of the biggest, nastiest looking rifles Beka had ever seen, came the almost feral looking form of a biped. That much could be told. However, due to the gloom, shadows and general chaos, very little else could be seen of the figure as it sprung onto the hangar bay floor, screaming a battle cry.

"Eat dark matter, scum bag!" Howled the creature, a voice that just might have been female, before promptly opening fire on the hoard of Magog around it.

"What the hell…?" Beka exchanged a glance with Dylan.

The Magog leapt on their assailant, but she saw them off admirably. Shooting those far enough away, she fell under the wait of one, but brought her forearm raking across the unfortunate magog's chest, and Beka thought she just about caught sight of a set of vicious looking bone blades flashing as they sank into the monster's flesh. Kicking the shrieking body off, the attacker was back on her feet, snatching her rifle from where she had dropped it and springing onto another set of Magog.

"A warrior," Rhade observed, delivering a blast from his force lance to the chest of another Magog, "if a little… psychotic seeming."

Another feral howl from the attacker as about another six Magog were dispatched at one blast from her rifle.

"The enemy of my enemy," Dylan shrugged.

Someone else suddenly came tumbling out of the Maru, solid and strong looking, baring another rifle. "Hannah, for God's sake, this is another time zone, not target practise!"

"What did he just say?" Beka raised her eyebrows at Dylan.

"Right now, Beka, I don't really care," Dylan thrust the end of his force lance through the chest of a Magog, "they're killing Magog, we're killing Magog. We have similar objectives. Just… let's try not to get in their way!"


	13. P3: Chap XIII: Too short for a title!

**Chapter Thirteen: So Short, it don't got no title!**

"Trident?" Khayos shook his friend's shoulder, "Trident, wake up!"

The scarred Nietzschean groaned and struggled to haul his eyelids up. They felt unusually heavy. "Kay?" He mumbled.

"Yeah. It's me. Come on, you gotta get up." Khayos helped pull Trident upright, then sat him down in the pilot's chair.

"What happened?" Trident asked, blinking.

"Emergency landing." Khayos shrugged. "The main drive blew out, remember?"

"Oh…" Trident flinched, scrunching his eyes shut in attempt to ease the pounding headache throbbing behind his temples. "So… where… when are we?"

"We're on the Andromeda," Khayos told him, "as for when, I'm not sure yet. But, we are still Magog-infested, and there's one hell of a fire fight going on outside."

"Great." Trident muttered, rubbing at his temples.

Suddenly, two Magog dropped into view in the doorway of the Maru's cockpit. Without thinking, Khayos snatched his force lance from where it lay discarded on the floor, extended it to full length, blasted one of the creatures in the chest, swung the weapon over his head and decapitated the next.

"Nice." Trident muttered.

"I think… we should be going now." Khayos suggested, gingerly nudging the dead body of one of the Magog with his foot.

"Sounds good." Trident agreed.


	14. P3: Chap XIV: Of Small boys and Engine r...

**Chapter Fourteen: Of Small Boys and Engine Rooms**

Harper stood up, gasping in the gloom. This wasn't good. Where had that teseract dumped him this time? He looked around him, woefully inadequate eyes struggling to take in any sign of his surroundings in the dark.

There was a rustle to his left. Something moved. Harper grabbed his blaster and swiftly pointed it at the spot the sound had come from. Nothing moved. No sound. Even the air seemed curiously dead and stale. Harper knew he was somewhere familiar. He had an odd sense of recognition. He knew this place. The old sent of oil, rust and electrical fluid reached his nostrils, and he nodded, confirming his own suspicions. The Maru's engine room.

Another rustle, to his left this time, and the soft, slight scrape of metal on metal. Harper whirled, his heart pounding in his chest.

Out of nowhere, something dived at him. Harper yelped and flung himself to the ground. Whatever it was sailed over head, and Harper looked up just in time to see the figure of a small boy with a shovel draw his weapon back like a baseball bat and swing it hard at whatever had just flung itself at him, sending the assailant sprawling away with a blood-chilling squeal.

"Shailen!"

Harper twisted onto his back to look behind him, to see another figure emerge from the gloom, this one baring what was definitely a force lance.

"Duck!"

The boy dropped, just in time to avoid being grabbed by the Magog that had been creeping up on him from behind. The figure with the force lance fired once with deadly accuracy, killing the second creature instantly.

The boy scrambled back onto his feet, breathing hard. Harper could see him more clearly because of the unnaturally luminous pair of blue eyes he had. They glowed an eerie turquoise in the dark. He seemed shaken, still gripping his shovel. Quickly, he ran across the gap separating him from his guardian, and was lifted off his feet into the figure's protective arms.

"Get up, Harper," called the figure, in a voice that was suddenly very familiar.

Slowly, Harper got back onto his feet, fumbling for the torch he always kept on his tool belt, and switched it on. Sure enough… "Rommie?"

"Harper." She smiled slightly. The boy in her arms blinked at him, eyes going from bright blue to dark brown in a split second.

This was not the Rommie Harper knew, though. This Rommie was radically different. In the glowing light of his torch, Harper stared at the figure that might, at some point, been the avatar he created. Oh, she had the same face, she was the same height, the same build. But everything else… it started with her hair, which was a snowy white, streaked with neon green, flicked out round her head in sharp, artificial looking quills. Her lips were white too, as were her eye lashes. Her clothes were different as well. She was wearing an old, white cotton shift, with little flowers embroidered around the neck and hem lines. Under this was a torn candy-striped shirt, and a pair of very battered jeans, frayed and trodden down around the feet, with the knees worn out of existence, and a pair of combat boots.

"Rommie?" Harper asked, softly.

The boy in her arms had to be the filthiest little urchin Harper had ever seen, and that was saying a lot, considering where he'd grown up. He wore a pair of corduroy trousers torn off at the knees, and an old jumper with what appeared to be one of his own loud Hawaiian shirts over the top, if severely battered. The boy's feet were bear, there was a graze on his cheek, and every visible inch of his skin had a fine coating of dust and oil. His wild black hair stuck out at every angle, and seemed stiff, as if it had been jelled there by years of collected scum.

"Hello, Harper." This future Rommie shifted the boy in her arms slightly. "It's… good to see you."

"Uh… you… too…" Harper frowned. This was just plain weird.

"Rommie, Shailen!" A new voice entered the conversation. Harper swung his torch round, to see a teenaged girl weaving towards them. Her multi-coloured skin glittered in the torch light, her long, coppery hair pulled into a pony tail to keep it out of her eyes, which were protected behind a blue-tinted visor. She was carrying a rifle, and wearing body armour. She stopped when she got to then, taking in the seen with swift efficiency, "you're going to have to move to somewhere safe. I think that's all the Magog off the ship, but there's an army of them out there, and it's gonna take a while to clear them."

"We know." Rommie nodded at the bodies of the two dead Magog.

"I got one with a shovel!" Shailen enthused, from Rommie's arms.

"Nice shot, by the way," Rommie told the boy, "I didn't know you could swing like that."  
  
The boy lowered his eyes modestly. "I used my metal arm. It wasn't that hard."

"Hey!" Harper held up his hand, "excuse me! Would some sort of explanation be too much to ask for round here?!"

"Right now, yes." The future Rommie informed him, calmly. "We have to move. You can stay here and get eaten, or you can come with us, stay safe, and maybe live long enough to get your explanation."  
Harper raised his eyebrows. "I think I'm gonna come with you guys."

"Good choice!" The girl grabbed his arm with her free hand and began towing him away, followed by Rommie and the boy. "My name's Destiny, by the way. And you're Harper. We've met, but you probably wont know about it for a while. Don't worry about the Magog. We didn't mean to bring them, they just sort of hitchhiked. Teseract jumping is less than an exact science, you know."


	15. P3: Chap XV: Of Wounds and Rescuers

**Chapter Fifteen: Of Wounds and Rescues**

A/N: I have absolutely no idea which pride Rhade comes from, or who his parents were, so sorry for the blinding inacuraces in this chapter...

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****

Rhade was breathing hard as he fought back yet another Magog. How many of the creatures were there? Every time he dispatched one, two more seemed to jump in and take their place. Ducking one, he threw another aside with a well placed kick and a deft slash of his bone blades, and moved to the next, firing at point blank range with his force lance. The kick back from such an action vibrated through his wrist with enough force to feel as if it had shattered every bone in his limb, but it at least cleared him some space to be able to turn round and check to make sure his comrades were alright before returning to the fray.

Out of nowhere, a sudden searing pain stung his left arm, and he gasped, feeling blood seep out from what was now a long cruel gash in the limb. A Magog, with blood on it's claws, _his_ blood, leered nastily at him. Anger, elevated by the pain, flushed Rhade's senses, and he dealt a ruthless blow to the creature's side, firing with his force lance twice before the creature was dead.

But he was hurt now, and the Magog seemed to be able to smell the blood. Several turned to him, eyes rolling back, teethe bared, circling him slowly.

Rhade didn't panic. Such fear was counter productive, and wasn't about to enhance anyone's survival chances, least of all his own. But neither was he foolish enough to believe that he was going to get out of this one easily. He was hurt, loosing blood quickly, and surrounded by at least seven salivating Magog.

No, this wasn't going to be easy.

One of the Magog lunged, lips drawn back over yellow teeth, going for Rhade's neck. Rhade ducked, sending the creature sprawling, but the sudden movement jerked his left arm and another searing pain shot up through his muscles.

Before he had time to recover, a second Magog pounced, and then a third, and as Rhade shot one and threw the other, a forth barrelled straight into his chest, knocking him flat. He heard something in his torso crack.

Kicking hard, Rhade twisted beneath the creature, grappling with it. It's face was inches away from his own, he could smell it's breath, the fowl odour of stale blood, sweat and old meat greeting his senses. Saliva dripped from the creature's jaws onto his face, it's teeth managing to knick the skin on his cheek. The Magog's strength was unbelievable, it's legs kicking and scratching at his own. Something sank it's teeth into his ankle.

Instinctively, Rhade thrust upwards with his bone blades, as hard as he could, but it seemed to make no difference. Sticky, hot blood fell from the creature's flesh onto his clothes. Those horrible, cold, cruel eyes, the eyes of a human, the human this creature had eaten it's way out of to gain existence, rolled back and narrowed, intent.

"Give up!" Hissed the Magog, it's voice throaty.

Rhade barely had time to spit in it's face before he felt it jerk suddenly, as if it had just been hit in the back with something, and it was quite suddenly hauled off him.

Sitting up, Rhade found himself looking at the knees of his rescuer. He squinted upwards, but couldn't make out the face in the gloom. Whoever it was thrust an extended force lance through the chest of the Magog, as if for good measure, then swiftly set about the others. The Magog, cowards by nature, scattered away to find easier fodder, and Rhade's rescuer returned to the prone Nietzschean.

An arm, complete with bone blades, was extended to the commander, and Rhade took it, allowing himself to be hauled onto his feet, before suddenly realising that he was supposed to be the only Nietzschean on board.

"Thank you," Rhade said, managing to get a better look at the figure before him.

He was looking at a teenaged boy. He was tallish, although slightly smaller than Rhade himself, probably still growing, lean and lithe. Up until recently, he most likely would have been all elbows and knees. Judging by his build, Rhade guessed the boy to be about sixteen, but it was hard gage, because of the patch work of scarring that obscured the left side of his face. He drew his forearm across his chest, in customary greeting.

"Telemachus Rhade, out of Maria by Lucious, of the Tarazed pride."

The boy smiled lightly, his scars twisting, then drew his arm up, "Trident. My parents are both dead, and my pride disowned me a long time ago. I claim no allegiance to anyone other myself, my sister and my friends."

"I see." Rhade frowned, wondering whether if whatever had killed his parents had given him that scarring.

"You should move somewhere more safe," Trident said, "you're hurt, and I wouldn't recommend loosing any more blood."

"Trident, look out!" From behind them another boy appeared, this one very much all elbows and knees, leaping in an agile cat-like fashion that belied his disproportionate frame from crate to crate. Was that a tale Rhade saw whipping around behind him?

The boy dived past them, landing on his feet in front of them, extending his force lance and whirling it deftly over his head, sending two more Magog crashing away from them. "Move, I'll keep them off!"

"Khayos, this isn't the time to play martyr!" Trident snapped, "we all have to get out of here! Come on!"

Rhade was led back towards the Maru, where the Andromeda security squads had set up a kind of strong hold made of piled up crates and boxes from behind which they were firing at the Magog. Rhade was having trouble breathing. Every time he took too deep a breath a sharp pain shot through his chest and he had to stop. He was fairly sure that that Magog on his chest had broken several of his ribs.

"Here, behind here!" Khayos, who was bounding ahead of them on all fours, landed on top of a small stack of metal crates.

Rhade collapsed gratefully, struggling to draw breath. Trident watched uneasily, his force lance still drawn. He looked at Khayos, still perched on top of the crates, "you think Hannah's out there?"  
Khayos shrugged, "And kicking ass."  
Trident rubbed at his temples. That head ache was still oncoming. "Great."


	16. P3: Chap XVI: Of Sons and Encounters

**Chapter Sixteen: Of Sons and Unexpected Encounters**

Behind the barricade that the Andromeda security squads had set up, Beka suddenly skidded into safety, landing next to where Dylan, Trance and Rommie were attempting to hold off another oncoming swarm. She looked panicked. "I lost Rhade!"

"You lost him?" Dylan questioned, over the screaming howls of the Magog and the blaster fire around them.

"He was there, and I turned round, and I turned back, and I couldn't see him!" Beka elaborated.

"Beka, Rhade's a big boy, he can take care of himself!" Rommie reassured, having to shout to make herself heard.

"Incoming!" Yelled a voice from beyond their barricade, and suddenly two bodies came diving over the top, sprawling just past the troops.

"Everybody block your ears!" Ordered one of them, leaping up.

The words were barely out of their mouths before an explosion rocked the hangar bay, sending Magog bodies flying.

One of the newcomers, a young woman, Beka could just see, whooped, "whoo! Yeah! Take that, Magog scum!"

Dylan glanced back at the two figures. He recognised them as the first pair who had launched themselves off the Maru. Closer up, it was easier to see them. The young woman was Nietzschean, judging by the bone blades, her skin crawling with tattoos, her pale blue eyes fierce with a feral wildness that was someone disturbing. A feline grin was playing over her features. The man looked a little older than her, though still barely out of his teens, smaller than Dylan, but solid and strong looking. Dylan noted as well, with an odd turn to his stomach, that his ears were pointed, and his skin glittered silver and gold in the shadowed light.

"Dylan Hunt," Dylan introduced himself, "and you two would be…"

"Oh, right, sorry," the young man smiled, thrusting thick red hair out of his oddly familiar, dark brown eyes, "Hope Gemini. Nice to meet you again, Captain Hunt. Ah, and that's Hannah. She's…" Hannah stood up and opened fire with her gun on the Magog over the top of their barricade, laughing in a somewhat hysterical manner, "… got a bit of an attitude. But hey, while in confined quarters it boarders on disturbing, we like to cultivate it for situations like this."   
  
Trance glanced up, over Dylan's shoulder, eyeing the boy with quiet intelligence. Hope gave Trance a casual nod, "Mother."

"Hope," she greeted, as if the situation was one she encountered everyday.

Beka opened her mouth, firmly closed it again, and exchanged a startled glance with Dylan. Hannah dropped back down to a crouch, shrugging her shoulders with a sigh, "ah, stress relief. I feel _so_ much better."

"Wait, wait," Dylan held up a hand and looked at Trance, "this… is your son…?"

"Well, he's grown somewhat, but… more or less." Trance shrugged nonchalantly.

"Don't worry, Captain," Hope put in, from Dylan's other side, "I wont get this big for a while. Besides, you've your own blood to worry about. Now, it would be very helpful if you could tell us what year this is."

"My own blood…?" Dylan raised his eyebrows. He wasn't entirely sure he _wanted _to know what that meant.

"Hope!" Hannah smacked her leader over his arm, "that little thing about time lines and _not _screwing them up!"

"Hey, I know what I'm doing!" Hope retorted.

Hannah rolled her eyes, "and I don't, I suppose? Y'know just 'cause you were born into this, doesn't mean the wrest of us don't know what we're doin'! We agreed, no one gets told! It's too risky!"

"Hey, love's young gift!" Beka snapped her fingers at the pair and pointed over the barricade, "swarm of Magog, right outside! Stay focused!"

Hannah quirked an eyebrow at Beka, and Beka suddenly got an eerie feeling of deja vous, as she was pinned by those oh-so-familiar blue eyes. Then, like the first light of dawn stabbing across the blackest night, one corner of the teenager's mouth flicked upward, in the first half of what might have been a beautiful, if slightly psychotic, smile.

"Whadaya say, Hope?" Hannah asked, "couple of fusion grenades… could do it… should do it?"

Hope shook his head, "That's too risky. There are good guys out there too."  
  
Hannah was not deterred. She turned to Dylan, "yo, cap'in, little help, get all your guys outta the warzone, and we'll clear the Magog, for ya. Deal?"

"And how are you going to do that?" Dylan asked, looking slightly sceptical.

Hannah and Hope exchanged a glance, and that mildly disturbing psychotic grin of Hannah's spread over her lips, "oh, we have our ways."

Hope looked at Dylan, "look, just clear your men and we'll do the wrest."

Beka quirked an eyebrow at Dylan and shrugged in a 'what have we got to loose?' kind of way. Dylan had to agree.

"Alright," he said. "We'll do it."


	17. P3: Chap XVII: Of Rock and Blood Loss

**Chapter Seventeen: Of Rock and Blood Loss**

****

Back behind their own tiny barricade, Trident, Khayos and Rhade were attempting to keep safe. Rhade was still having difficulty breathing, and the blood loss from his arm was starting to make him dizzy. While Khayos kept guard, Trident attempted to keep his father awake. He had taken off his shirt from beneath his scrap highguard uniform, and was currently pressing it to the gash in Rhade's limb. "Stay with me, Rhade."

"I'm trying," Rhade muttered, frowning as he forced himself to refocus. "What _is_ that music?"

"Music?" Trident frowned.

Rhade nodded, "the music… I can hear it… sounds like one of Beka's… old records…"  
Enlightenment dawned, "oh, you mean Hannah's rock music?" Trident grinned. In all the confusion, someone must have forgotten to turn it off, and it could still just be heard over the din all around them, emanating from the Maru's open hatch.

"Hannah?" Rhade rubbed the skin between his eyes, determined to stay awake.

"She's my sister," Trident told him, keeping the pressure on his father's arm, "well… half sister. We have the same father. She likes antique rock music, especially from Earth."

"I see…" Rhade didn't really. He felt as if his thoughts were coming apart, drifting, fragmented and incoherent across the surface of his mind. He could see blood beginning to pool beside him, and somewhere registered that it was probably his.

Trident watched his father swim in his gradually loosening consciousness, and worried. The whole situation was surreal. Here he was explaining their family quirks to his own father, whilst the man slowly bled to death, with a Magog army swarming all around them.

"Trident!" The voice, tinny but clear, came over Trident's com. It was Hope. "Trident, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, go ahead Hope," Trident answered.

"Is Khayos with you?"

"He is."

"Then listen up, the pair of you." Hope sounded grim, "you have to get out of there. Get back onto the Maru or get behind our barricade. In five minutes we're gonna blast the place with fusion grenades. Do you understand?"

"Understood." Trident replied. "But we have Rhade with us. He's hurt, bleeding badly, and may have broken some ribs. It could take us a while to move him."

"Alright, Trident." Hope could almost be heard thinking, "where are you?"

"Within sight of your barricade," Trident answered, "there's a stack of metal crates. We're behind them."

"Hannah says she can see you." Hope told them, "I'm gonna send her over to help. Get Rhade onto the Maru if possible. If not, take shelter under it. Got that?"

"We understand, Hope."

Hannah arrived barely thirty seconds later, blood trickling down one cheek from a scar picked up earlier, but otherwise none the worse for wear. "Hello, boys!" She greeted, as if they were in the middle of picnic on a Sunday afternoon instead of a Magog swarm. "You alright?"

"Okay, I think," Trident told her.

Khayos nodded, "not so sure about Rhade there, though."  
  
Hannah stood over the Nietzschean, regarding him critically for a second. Rhade looked up, aware he was being scrutinised, but the action made his head swim and he shuddered, unable to find the face connected to the feeling of being observed. "Okay, we better get going," Hannah decided, "Khayos, go ahead, Trident, you get that side, I'll take the one with the blood pouring out."

Together they managed to haul Rhade onto his feet. Rhade attempted to help, kicking his feet, (which felt oddly disconnected from his body), and blinking hard, training all his thoughts on trying to walk. Hannah grunted with the effort, "come on, daddy dearest, don't give out on us now. You still got two kids to conceive."

Trident gave his sister a look, "you better hope he's too out of it to have heard that."

"Well, if he dies," Hannah told him, falsely cheerful, "it wont make a difference!"

Luckily for them, Rhade was indeed 'too out of it to have heard that'. He could no longer hear anything decisive, only a confusing smurge of echoing background noise. His surroundings had blurred into a sickening whirl of floor and ceiling, so he could hardly see his own boots, let alone where they were going. He tried to take a deep breath, but pain shot up through his chest, reminding him of the folly of such an activity. Instead he tried to wade through the ocean of hay that seemed to have replaced his brain to find that part of it that controlled his motor functions. Grasping something that might have been the right part, he tried to feel his feet, and place one in front of the other. He was aware of movement, of being half dragged somewhere, and of a presence on either side of him.

Another pain from his chest had the momentary advantage of clearing his fogged mind for a second, and while the wrest of him screamed '_Damage control!'_ he managed to take in the fact that Trident was holding onto one side of him, that someone he didn't know had the other, and that they were walking towards what was probably the Maru.

"Where… where are we… going?" He managed, the words feeling thick and difficult.

"The Maru," Trident told him, "we need shelter. We're going to try to fusion grenade the place to kill off the Magog, but we have to get out first."

Rhade could just about comprehend what he was being told, and managed to nod, "right."

"Suck it up, Rhade," the person he didn't know, on his other side, ordered, "stay with us. We can't drag you all the way."

Rhade struggled. He felt like a swimmer beneath the surface of his own mind, unsure of which way was up. He needed something to concentrate on, some light that might show him where to go.

"Talk… talk to me…" he mumbled.

Trident promptly launched into conversation, "on board our ship we have to deal with a lot of stress, so we all have our own ways of unwinding. Hope likes to work out, Destiny talks a lot, and does gymnastics if we ever encounter any free space, Shailen likes to tinker with his metal arm to see how strong he can get it, and he plays this flute his dad gave to him when he was little, of course Shailen's only ten so he's the youngest; then Hannah, that's her, by the way, she likes to take her rifle apart and put it back together again, and clean it a lot too. Then she does target practise. Khayos… well, I don't know what Khayos does but he has to do _something_…" And so it went on, and on and on. Rhade didn't take in a word, but he could focus on the voice, and through it just about managed to keep his head above the surface.


	18. P3: Chap XVIII: Of Fusion Grenades

**Chapter Eighteen: Of Fusion Grenades **

Back behind the barricade, Hope was lining up several small round metal balls. "These are the most effective weapon we have against the Magog. My engineer invented them. They're fusion grenades. When they go off, they send out a high pitched frequency charge, attuned to the Magog's exact brain patterns, killing them instantly. One will take all of them in about a ten meter radius out, so this ought to do it."

"I see…" Dylan picked one up, examining it. There was a little indent at the top of it, but other than that, it looked like a large metal marble.

Beka was frowning, "but if they just effect the Magog, why do we need to get our guys out?"  
  
Hope gave her a grim smile, "because if you get too close to one when it goes off, you'll find cream soup where your brains used to be, no matter what race you belong to."

"Nice." Beka muttered.

"Don't touch the indent at the top," Hope advised, taking one of the grenades back from the captain, "that sets them off." He produced several more from a pouch hanging from his belt. "We should throw them over the barricade at fairly even intervals, as far and wide as possible. To charge them, place your thumb into the indent and press down. You should feel it vibrate slightly for about a second. That means it'll go off in twenty seconds. At that point, throw it as far away from you as possible and duck."  
  
"Great," Dylan raised his eyebrows.

"These are vicious," Trance was examining another grenade, "cruel."

"Desperate times, I'm afraid." Hope told her. "We do what we have to. And, quite frankly, if it'll wipe every last one of these miserable creatures off the face of the universe for good, I don't care how it works."

"What has become of you, Hope?" Trance wondered, almost to herself. "What turned you into this?"

"You only know me as a baby, mother," Hope reminded her, "how do you know I wasn't always like this?"

Part of Trance's mouth lifted, that slight, almost bitter smile, "no one ends up like us naturally, Hope."

"Ah, yes," Hope passed a grenade to a soldier, "your promise. I'd forgotten. Well, if it's any comfort, there's little you could have done." He looked at Dylan, and something disturbing flashed across his eyes, darkening them, before glancing back at his mother, "it wasn't you who turned me into this."

"Much as I hate to interrupt this touching reunion," Beka spoke up, "but the last of the security squads are out. We're good to go."

Hope nodded. "Right. You remember what I said?"

Beka picked up a fusion grenade, "indent, twenty seconds, throw and duck. Oh yeah."

"So, after you," Dylan made a motion with his hand toward the wall at Hope. Hope allowed himself a cynical smirk, picked up a fusion grenade, primed it, and hurled it over the top. "Go."

All along the barricade, the security squadmen primed and launched their fusion grenades, and ducked. Hope looked up, "detonation in five, four, three, two, one…"

Across the hangar bay, a wave of detonations swept through the Magog like a knife through butter. They dropped like flies, howling in pain before finally being snuffed out, like candles from existence.


	19. P3: Chap 19: Of Mothers, sons, and Gener...

**Chapter nineteen: Of Mothers, Children and General Confusion**

A/N: Right! This is the last update for five days, 'cause I'm away visiting friends for the afore mentioned period of time... ;) Anyway, read these three chapters, and then, my dear readers, I need your help.

You see, I know where this is going, make no mistake. But I don't know how to _get_ the story there. I need what might be deemed 'filler' moments, to bridge the gaps in the plot. And here is where you come in! Reveiw my story, and tell me what you want to see happening. no major plot things, just little moments. Any characters you particularly want to see interact? Any arguements or disagreements of conversations you want any characters to have? Anything like that, please, tell me, and I'll find the workable suggestions and put them in! (I'll give your idea's credit in the beginning, too.)

I would also like to apologise for not being able to answer reviews for the previouse chapters at the moment, 'cause I'm writing this in a hurry. I'm leaving in approximately ten minutes and still have to pack my bag!   
  
Okay, here we go, enjoy! :)

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The sudden silence was deafening. Even the music from the Maru had stopped. Somebody within must have turned it off.

Slowly, uncertainly, Khayos raised his head. They were lying beneath the Maru, a little down the way from the barricade. Beside him, Hannah had already wormed her way to the edge of their shelter and was peering out. Trident was keeping a wary eye on his father, who seemed to just about still be conscious.

Khayos got onto all fours and crawled to where Hannah was. In the half light of the hangar bay, they could just about see the bodies of hundreds of dead Magog, strewn over the cold metal floor. Gaining courage, Khayos crawled past Hannah, and slowly got to his feet, dusting off his hands as he did so.

From behind the barricade, Dylan, Rommie, Trance, Beka and Hope were just raising their heads to peer over the top. What they saw was a tall, blue, disproportioned teenage boy with a tale, standing alone in a pool of light cast from the Maru's open hatch, looking at his surroundings with an odd detachment that was strangely chilling to see.

From behind Khayos, Hannah suddenly emerged, dragging the semi-conscious Rhade with her, helped by Trident, who shoved his father out from behind, before getting up himself.

Dylan stood up. "Andromeda, full power to Hangar bay lights."

The lights suddenly came up, a harsh fluorescent white, making those still alive blink in surprise. Khayos narrowed his eyes against the intrusion, scrutinising the captain behind dark eyelashes. His gaze switched to his mother, and he felt a sting as he saw the confusion in her eyes. She wouldn't know him, as she would the other two. She couldn't see him coming. That was the point, after all.

Suddenly from behind them, there was a yelp, and Destiny came skidding out of the Maru's hatch, a grin of giddy delight on her features. She stopped short of actually racing towards their mother, choosing to stop next to Khayos instead, but she bounced hyperactively from foot to foot none the less, and Khayos knew their mother recognised her.

Harper came next, hurrying out of the hatch and across the floor to join his friends once more, ignoring the questioning glances his crew mates cast at him. He looked pale and shaken, and seconds later the Andromeda crew knew why.

Last from the hatch emerged two figures together. Rommie, carrying a young boy in her arms. A future Rommie, with green-tinted white hair and lips, a white shift over old jeans, circuits showing through the skin on her arms, and a limp.

Rommie, the present Rommie, stood up, her mouth opening in amazement.

"Told you this was freaky," Harper put in.

"In every sense of the word…" Beka murmured.

Rommie was still apparently trying to process what was going on, "okay… that's me… and I'm me… and…. I'm confused…"

"Paradox," Trance put in, "the teseracts have created a situation in which two Rommies can exist at the same time."

"That's… interesting…" Dylan remarked, blinking from one to the other.

The future Rommie smiled, placing the boy she carried onto his feet. He clung to hand, looking around him shyly.

Trance stood up. Dusting herself off, she stepped out from behind the barrier and walked silently, determinedly, over the space of floor separating the future from the past. For a few seconds she stood, regarding the little group carefully, evaluating odds, examining the sudden flourishing of new possibilities this presented. Then a smile lifted her features, as she looked at the daughter she had long seen coming, and held out her arms. "Destiny."

Destiny promptly flung herself into her mother's embrace, still a little smaller than Trance herself. "Hello, mother," Her voice was shaky with unshed tears, sudden memory of their last encounter washing over her. The last time she had seen her mother was approximately sixty seconds before Trance's killer had broken the avatar's neck.

"Hush," Trance planted a kiss on Destiny's head and stroked her hair, gently. She understood, at least in part, the end her daughter must have seen. Though Destiny was yet to be formed, Trance had seen her birth and growth already, many times, and that bond was already there, fully formed. "Now, let me see," Trance held her daughter away from her, tipping her head to one side, to see which of her many future-visions had finally come to create itself.

Destiny grinned. "Am I what you saw, mother?"  
Trance raised an eyebrow, "well, I wouldn't have envisaged the curls at this point, but my tastes are likely to change, aren't they?"

"Oh, yes," Destiny nodded vehemently, "after all, I'm a little multi-coloured, too."

"A little," Trance agreed, an amused smile lifting her features. "But it's good to see you properly, at last."

"Then," Destiny began, a little hesitantly, taking her mother's hand and holding it out to the blue young man who was hanging back from the little group, "perhaps you would be glad to meat your second son, too."

Trance allowed Destiny to gently place her hand against the chest of her son, and felt her daughter step back, away, watching with interest. Khayos watched the expressions chase each other across his mother's face. Confusion, as she attempted to assess what she was seeing, what she was being told, what she knew, and what she didn't, then place the pieces together. Disbelief, as the answers, futures, possibilities, came together, showed her a time line she had never seen before, a future she couldn't foresee: her own, and then promptly denied what that future told her would happen. Fear, as she realised that denying the possibility did not banish it's existence, for this was not only her own future, and what this single thread of existence meant, the life it would lead to for her and her children. Surprise, as several more threads came into being, wisps of possibilities yet to be, showing her details, Khayos's future-sight feeding her own, and she saw his father, his life, his growth, her son. And finally understanding dawned in her eyes like a sunrise, and recognition, and hope, and gentle, maternal love, and she reached up (for he stood a good three inches over her head), and wrested her fingers against his cheek, speaking the name that came to her through the future sight, "Khayos."

Khayos felt something inside him break. A crumbling of some sort, like a wall somewhere finally crushing itself into dust. It took a second for whatever was behind that barrier to reach him, then…

Tears sprung up in the half-breed's eyes, as all the grief, and all the pain and all the fear, the anger, the loneliness, the desperate need of an orphaned child for his mother, came crashing back down on Khayos like a tidal wave. Trance had _raised_ him, on her own, just the two of them on their endless flightless journey across the universe, as they hid from those that would see them dead. For the first ten years of his life, that was all he had known, all he had ever wanted. Then… then… then she was gone. She, and his father, and the wrest of the Andromeda crew, and even the Andromeda herself, and the only mother he had was Rommie and his siblings. But he had her back. He had his mother back again.

And this time, it wasn't going to end like that.

Unable to trust himself to speak, Khayos allowed himself to be pulled into Trance's arms, felt her holding him like she hadn't done since he was a boy of eleven years old. "Mother," the word jerked from Khayos's throat like a captive bird out of it's cage, more a half realised, gasping sob than anything verbal.

"My son," Trance seemed to be attempting to get used to the idea, "my second son. My middle child. My…"

"Bluebird," Khayos mumbled, into her shoulder, attempting to bury his head in the scent on her hair, lost in childhood memories. "Sweet as a song and blue as a bird, you used to call me." And he laughed.

"I know," Trance told him, and found she did. She saw it all, drawn out in front of her, the path laid beneath her feet without her realising it was there.

"Ah, yeah, much as I hate to break up this nice little thing you got going on here," Hannah interrupted, waving a hand at mother and son, speaking so that the past Andromeda crew wouldn't hear, "but if you got any pretty last words you wanna say to me an' Trident, I'd say 'em quick, 'cause we got one big dying Nietzschean over here, and I tell ya, killing off your own father before you've even been conceived ain't good for a girl's existence."

"Oh no…" Destiny moaned.

"Oh yeah," Hannah nodded, grimly, "screwed up reality number one, here we come."

"Not if I have anything to do with it." Trance told her, stepping away from Khayos and swiftly gathering her wits.

She turned back to where Dylan and the wrest were still watching the little scene like the audience to a slightly surreal puppet show, and promptly went into action. "Dylan, Rhade's badly hurt! We need a medical in here _right now_! Hannah, and…" She struggled, sorting through perhaps a billion realties to find the proverbial needle in a haystack, "Trident, yes, that's your name, lay him down. Have you any medi-kits on the Maru?"

"We got needles, thread and pain killers," Destiny told her mother, calmly.

"Close enough," Trance decided, promptly grasping one thread of reality and moving on to the next, "get them."

She went down on her knees next to Rhade, laid out on the floor by his future children, and examined his torn arm. He had definitely severed an artery. Had he been human, he would have been dead by now, but his genetic engineering meant that his body's trouble-shooting system had managed to successfully close off most of the blood flow to the arm. Unfortunately, this was not enough to stop the blood entirely, and even with his body working over time to compensate, Rhade would be dead within an hour if they didn't close off the wound, and possibly get him a transfusion. Not only that, but she could already feel several broken ribs, one of which was dangerously close to his right lung.

If the organ was punctured… well, none of those futures looked particularly bright.

Trident crouched next to Trance, looking from the familiar yet unfamiliar face of his father to that of the mysterious golden woman he remembered as a healer of scraped knees from childhood.

"Will he… be okay?"

Trance smiled at the boy she knew would one day exist as Rhade's second child, "the chances of his survival are high. He's a survivor, Trident. Like all Nietzscheans." _Like his son._

Trident nodded, trying to feel reassured, but failing miserably. He had been through too much to take anything for granted any more.

As Destiny came running back with thread, sterilised needle and the requested pain killers, Rommie was still trying to get to grips to there suddenly being two of her, while Beka was torn between worrying about Rhade, worrying about what the hell had happened to her ship, and trying to work out who exactly all these kids were. The three sparkly ones were obviously Trance's children somehow launched into the past, that much had become apparent. But who were all the others? And why did Hannah look so familiar?

Dylan was attempting to gain some sort of order. Several of his men had been wounded, but there had been no fatalities (as far as could be found). The worst off appeared to be a second Lieutenant called Thompson, and Rhade. Then there was the whole rather confusing business of this little band of future-time travelling people who had, quite unexpectedly, turned up in the hanger bay, complete with their own version of the Maru, that looked, if it was possible, even more beaten up than Beka's.

Dylan ran a hand through his hair, considering.

Hope suddenly appeared beside him, "I would get your men into medical."

Dylan jumped. He'd forgotten the young man was still standing there. "Right." He frowned, "you're Trance's son?"

"Yes." Hope replied. "I'm a little older, but that's about it."

"You exist… here, now, only younger?" Dylan attempted to understand.

Hope smiled, "in the current present, I am a baby. My avatar is barely functional, my star is only just fully formed. As with Rommie, the teseracts have created a situation in which both of us can exist in the same present."

"I see…" Dylan frowned.

"You will." Hope offered, reassuringly. "I don't have a father, if that's what you're worrying about. Our people don't require two sets of DNA to be created. Our parent simply forms us, moulds us, gives us a little life energy, creates a nice little ball of burning gas that will eventually become a star for us to feed off, and well… we do the wrest."  
This was just getting more surreal by the moment, "right…" Dylan muttered. He could already feel a migraine coming on. "Tell me what exactly you and your friends are doing here, again?"

Hope shook his head, "this is not the place. We should congregate in the medical deck. Hannah and Trident will have picked up one or two cuts and bruises, and Trident wont leave his… Trident will be reluctant to leave Rhade. We can attempt to… explain the situation there."

"Okay," Dylan nodded, "the med. deck in ten minutes. I'm… assuming you know where it is…"

"We were raised on this ship, captain," Hope answered, dryly, "it's been a while, but we'll find it."


	20. P3: Chap 20: Of Meetings and Explanation...

Chapter Twenty: Of Meetings and Explanations

The medical bay was crowded. A thousand small injuries had been acquired during the battle with the Magog, and Trance, with a team of medics, was busy swiftly patching everyone up.

Rhade was laid on a bed by Hannah and Trident, who had refused to allow anyone else to take him from them. Trance, who's primary concern were the Nietzschean and Lieutenant Thompson, dived between each of the wounded men delivering advice and bandages in about equal quantities. Checking Rhade, she nodded, grimly.

"He needs a blood transfusion, and quickly."

Trident didn't hesitate, baring an arm, "take mine."

Beka, who was hanging round the end of Rhade's bed trying not to look concerned, looked up, "don't you have to have the right… blood group… or something?"

"It'll match," Trident answered, firmly.

Hannah grinned dryly, "trust us, we're time-travellers."

"Are you sure?" This was Trance, looking at Trident meaningfully. While blood-groups were genetic, Trident wouldn't automatically have the same type as his father.

Trident nodded. "I'm sure."

"Oww!" Shailen was moaning over a scraped knee, as the future Rommie carried him into Medical bay. "It _hurts_!"

"I know," future Rommie told him, sympathetically. She placed him down on a surface, "Come on, sit still, let me see."

Shailen clamped his fingers over the bloodied knee, "don't wanna look."

"Then how will we stop it hurting?" Rommie reasoned.

Shailen considered, the mechanical part of his brain conflicting with it's human counterpart, "okay… but no stingy stuff!"

"No stingy stuff," Rommie promised.

"Hannah, are you bleeding?" Hope was the last of the time-travellers to arrive, ushering Khayos and Destiny ahead of him.

Hannah put a hand up to the cut on the side of her head, then looked at her fingers in surprise as they came away sticky, "oh. Right. I guess."

"Let me see that," Hope pulled her away from where Trident was allowing Trance to slide a needle into his arm.

Hannah shook her head, "it's nothin', Hope. Leave it."

"Looks kinda painful for nothing," Hope argued, already locating a handful of disinfecting cotton-dabs and attempting to get a closer look. He pulled a few strands of loose hair that had become matted with the blood free from the cut, and Hannah flinched.

"Ow! Leave it will ya?!"

Hope offered her an irritating grin and pressed the cotton to the cut before she could protest, "told you it was kinda painful for nothing. And I'm the oldest, I'm looking after the wrest of you people. Now hold still and take it like a man!" He saw the look Hannah gave him and swiftly corrected himself, "woman! I meant woman! I mean, of course you're a woman, girl, woman… yeah, um… it's just a figure of speech…"  
  
Hannah rolled her eyes, "whatever, Hope." She batted him off, taking the cotton from him, "I can do this myself."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hope caught Destiny and Khayos sniggering. He flashed them a dirty look. "What?!"

Khayos shook his head, flicking his tail. Destiny was less tactful. "Oh Hannah! Let me look at that cut! Oh, here, it must hurt! Oh, I never noticed you were a woman before!" She mimicked, before trailing off into giggles.

Hope did not bother to argue with them. He suspected their laughter was more a form of hysteria than anything else. It was a common reaction to massive upheaval of time and space. They all had to deal with it somehow. 

Trident watched with an oddly detached, morbid fascination as the plastic tube now connecting himself to his father turned scarlet with passing blood. He could feel a slight drain from his arm, and tried not to look at the needle now imbedded in the skin. Reflexively, his bone blades flared in unease, and he shuddered, taking a few deep breathes to relax them again. He had never been good with blood.

"Hey," Khayos appeared next to him. "How's saving your existence going?"

Trident shrugged. "Am I still here?"

Khayos looked his friend up and down, then nodded, "by the looks of things."

"Then pretty good," Trident told him. He looked again at the blood-filled tube and scrunched his eyes closed, "eugh. Just wish it didn't have to be this… eugh."

"Ah, it'll be over soon enough," Khayos reassured. "Look on the bright side. We made it!"

"Yeah," Trident agreed weekly. "But _when_ did we make it to?"

Khayos shrugged, "well if someone would tell me the friggin' date, we'd be getting somewhere!"

Slowly, the medical bay began to loose it's occupants, as troopers gradually limped back to their quarters, bandaged and stitched up. Half an hour later, the Andromeda crew were left to look at their future counterparts. Trident was still attached to his father via the tube. Hannah's cut had stopped bleeding and she had seated herself next to her brother. Destiny was sat on work surface behind them, with Hope leaning against it next to her. Shailen sat on Destiny's other side, with the future Rommie next to him. Khayos had separated himself from the group slightly, crouching in his favoured cat-like position on the work surface a little further alone.

Trance was still seeing to Lieutenant Thompson, making sure he was stable and asleep before coming to stand opposite her future children, between Dylan and Harper. Beka and Rommie stood on Harper's left, Rommie eying up her future self uneasily. Rhade was slowly struggling back into consciousness, things swimming slowly in and out of focus, fading and re-focusing, the lights too bright one second and too dark the next. He coughed, trying to shake his head and get a better look at his surroundings.

On one side, he could make out that Nietzschean boy, a tube in his arm… what was his name…? Kident… Midant… Trident… yes, that was it… Trident… and some others… that boy with the tale… someone else… confused, he looked to his other side, and was relieved at the far more familiar sight of the Andromeda crew. He could see Beka smiling at him. Trance touched his shoulder, placing a cooling patch on his forehead to dim the slight fever his immune system had brought on to try to compensate for the heat loss due to the escaping blood. "Welcome back."

"Hey," Rhade muttered, scrunching his eyes closed and then opening them again, once more relieved to see things come back into focus.

"You're okay," Trance reassured. "But don't move. You've got one or two broken ribs, and I don't think moving would be particularly comfortable for you right now."

"Okay," Rhade agreed, quite happy to stay still for a while.

"Okay," Dylan began, "now we're all… here… would you all like to explain our… your… situation?"

Hope began, "well, firstly… my name is Hope, that's my younger sister Destiny and my brother Khayos. That's Hannah, and her brother Trident, and that's Shailen and um… you already know Rommie." 

"Not this one…" Muttered Harper, though no one heard.

Before anyone else could speak, Shailen spoke up, "we're time travellers! Would you like a card?"

"Card?" Dylan asked.

"Yup," Shailen nodded enthusiastically, his brown eyes suddenly turning an unnerving shade of bright blue in his eagerness, "business cards. I made them. Here," he dug in an unseen pocket and produced a small rectangle of white cardboard, tossing it at Dylan, "String and Chewing Gum: Time Travellers. Saving the universe, one historical mistake at a time!"

"I… see…" Dylan held the card at arms length. It had indeed been neatly printed with Shailen's professed slogan.

"String and Chewing Gum?" Harper questioned, taking the card off Dylan.

"Yeah," Shailen nodded again, swinging his legs, "'cause that's all we're held together by! Have you seen the state of our Maru? I tell you, child prodigy I may be, but there is only so much this little boy-genius can do!"

"Okay, boy-genius, that'll do," Hope interrupted. The others were smirking quietly.

Beka raised an eyebrow at Rommie. Shailen's speech sounded awfully familiar…

"Look," Hope started again, sighing, "we're from a future that went horribly, horribly wrong-"

"Where have we heard_ that_ before?" Beka muttered, glancing at Trance.

Hope didn't pay her any attention, "- and we have to put it right."

"In our time, the universe is literally falling apart at the seems," Destiny took over, looking disturbingly like her mother as she offered her plea in all earnesty to Dylan, "it's how we got here. There's this thing,"

"A testeract field," Khayos put in, speaking up for the first time, then wishing he hadn't as all eyes were drawn to him.

"It's kind of like a sieve in the space time continuum," Destiny continued, mercifully drawing attention away from her shy older brother, "and it started appearing about five years ago, and it's been growing ever since. It gets bigger everyday, and pretty soon…"

"The universe looks like it's gonna spontaneously combust on us," Trident finished, looking up. "The field is sucking everything into it; things just disappear into it and we never see them again. Meteors, asteroids, stars, planets, suns, entire galaxies… they just… disappear."

"Poof!" Shailen added, by way of illustration.

"It's kinda ironic," Hope picked up, "that the source of our destruction is also our salvation. The teseract field is our window of opportunity."  
  
Destiny nodded, "you go into it, and fall through into the gaps, into this place called the 'tween, and then the teseracts pick you up, spin you round and dump you out somewhere, and some _when_, else."

"Except it isn't that simple," Hope went on, "because you have to know how to navigate the field, or you'll just end up being thrown around the 'tween for the wrest of all eternity. Space and time don't exist there, and if you get lost, you're…"

"Screwed," Hannah finished, helpfully.

Hope lifted his eyes skywards, but nodded, "yeah."

"And you've learned how to navigate this… field," Dylan concluded.

"More or less," Destiny shrugged, "it's not an exact science, but with the teseract drive and Khayos we can usually get where we need to go."

"Except our teseract drive seems to have given up on us," Hope went on, looking slightly apologetic, "we lost it about mid way through the teseract field, and had to pull an emergency landing or risk getting lost."

Shailen held up his hands, "like I said! There's only so much a boy-genius can do! Especially if you're confining me to the _engine room_!"

"Shailen, we've told you, you getting eaten by the Magog does not help anyone," the future Rommie reminded him.

Shailen looked sulky but said no more.

"So you're telling us you weren't even supposed to end up here?" Beka demanded, anger blossoming in her stomach as she suddenly realised that a simple mistake had put hundreds of crew in danger, not to mention nearly killed Rhade and Thompson.

"Hey, we're not exactly ecstatic about it either!" Hannah snapped back, instantly irritated by her mother's tone.

Beka was silenced, not by Hannah's temper, but by something she'd seen, just peeping out from beneath the torn-off sleeve of Hannah's shirt, clipped up round the teenager's shoulder. Beka's fingers went to where her birthday bracelet was still clipped under her sleeve. Was that… was that… silver…? And something blue… glinting…? She frowned.

"Alright, alright," Dylan held up a hand, "Beka, can we hear them out, please?" He looked at Hope, "where… when were you trying to get to? And what were you trying to do? Perhaps if you warn us now we can correct it when we get there."  
Hope shook his head, "we've tried that technique a couple of times in other situations. It rarely works. History has an irritating habit of repeating itself, no matter how indirectly you try to alter it. We need to be there as it happens to actually change anything."

"So…" Dylan was attempting to gain some perspective, "what are you proposing you… we… do?"

"We need to fix the teseract drive," Hope said, "even without the teseract field, we can use it to get back into the 'tween and get moving again. Hopefully we should be able to get to our destination from here."

"But fixing the drive wont be easy," Shailen wagged a finger, looking somewhat comical, if unintentionally so, "it's got parts which me an' Rommie invented ourselves. We're gonna have to build some of them from scratch, an' that'll take a while."

"How long?" Dylan asked.

"We'll need to look at what damage has actually been done," the future Rommie said. "After that it's a matter of… patience and genius."

"Of which we've got a load!" Shailen put in.

"It could be anywhere between a day and a year," Hope told Dylan, somewhat, but only marginally, more helpful. "The teseract drive is… unique. Getting it on line will be delicate."

"Tell me about it," Hannah moaned, "I swear, that thing has emotions. And the last thing you need is a machine that answers back when you're trying to fix it!" She glanced at both Rommie's, "present company excepted, of course."

"Alright…" Dylan frowned, "well… I'm sure Mr Harper will be able to help you…"

Shailen's eyes lit up (quite literally), "yeah! Cool! Harper can help, can't he Rommie? Can't he?" He looked eagerly at his guardian, who sighed.

"Shailen…"

"Come on, Rommie," Shailen begged, "it'll get done quicker, and I'll never hide from you again! Promise!"

Rommie looked helplessly at Hope, who shrugged, "just uh… don't screw up the time line, okay short-man?"

"Oh _yeah_!" Shailen leapt up, delighted. He ran to Harper and grabbed the engineer's hand, hauling the slightly surprised man away, "come on, Harper, I'll show you everything you need to know! It'll be so much fun, and we've got all the sparky cola you'll ever need! Do you wanna see my pet rats? They don't bight at all, and they come to their names! Oh, and we gotta see my nest, and then all round the engine room, and I'll show you the drive and we'll sort it out and we'll fix it up in no time!"

The future Rommie hurried after them.

"Shailen's a little hyperactive," Destiny informed the Andromeda crew, unnecessarily.

"Well," Dylan could definitely feel the beginnings of a migraine, "do you… need somewhere to stay…?"

"Oh, we can stay on the Maru, don't worry," Destiny told him.

"But… um… there is one thing…" Trident suddenly spoke up, a little nervously, glancing up then at his hands… "it's kinda been a while since we last… uh… could we…"

"We'd like a decent meal and a shower," Hannah finished for her brother, dead pan. "Nutri-gum and aqua-drops may keep the body sustained indefinitely, but jeez, to actually be able to taste what we're eating for once…"

Dylan smiled, "consider it done."

Trident grinned, "alright! Solid food!" 


	21. P3: Chap 21: Of Fathers and Sons

**Chapter Twenty One: Of Father's and Sons**

Rhade listened quietly to all of this. He felt week and somewhat flimsy, like he might at any moment melt and simply dribble off the table. His head swam if he turned it too fast. It was getting better, but painfully slowly.

He watched as the others dispersed, leaving only Trance, Trident and that odd blue boy with the tale in his company. Trance kept moving between him and Thompson, checking each patient easily. The constant movement was making Rhade feel sick, so he looked away, to study Trident some more.

The teenager had his elbows wresting on his knees, head bend forward, hands clasped behind his neck. He looked a little pale. Rhade frowned.

"Hey," he managed, making the boy start, "you okay?"  
A dry grin passed over Trident's features as he looked up, "sure."

Rhade looked at the tube he realised was channelling blood from one of them to the other and made a guess, "not a blood person?"  
Trident grimaced, "it brings back some… unpleasant memories."

"I see," Rhade didn't press him. Instead he attempted to take a better look at the teenager's face. One side was indeed completely obliterated by terrible burns, reducing the skin to a deep red in some parts, and a rust brown in others, almost natural looking in bits. All of it was twisted and creased, like old leather, or prosthetic plastic, almost like it could be pealed off. The left eye seemed to be permanently half closed, the eyebrow completely gone, the ear little more than a lump of flesh. The corner of the left side of his mouth was folded over in a constant downwards quirk, like he was smirking.

"I…" Rhade wanted to say something, but was unsure of what.

Trident looked up again, and Rhade was fairly sure he really was smirking this time, "you want to know how this-" he waved a hand, indicating the burned side of his face, "-happened?"

"Well… I… if you want… I mean…" Rhade would have shrugged awkwardly, but shrugging whilst lying down was surprisingly difficult.

Trident smiled slightly, "it's okay. You can ask. I see people staring sometimes, y'know? I wish they'd just say something, just ask, instead of acting like it matters. We all got marks. Mine's just more obvious than most."

"Okay," Rhade agreed. He could sort of see the boy's point. "So… are you going to tell me about it…?"

Trident shifted a little, pushing his hair out of his eyes, taking a deep breath as he thought about how much to say, "I was young… a small boy… it doesn't matter how old, really, but I was… very young. I was visiting my mother on the drift where her pride were staying… I was raised by my father… the circumstances of my birth were… difficult. Anyway, I was visiting my mother and her pride was attacked by…" he paused, his eyes darkening, fists clenching at the memory. Rhade saw his bone-blades flare reflexively. Then he shook his head, seeming to gather himself, "that… that doesn't matter either. They were attacked by another pride… there was a massive explosion, killed a lot of people… my mother too… I survived because I was hidden under a sheet of metal it… fell from the ceiling, kept me safe… but I was still caught in the blast and well… this is what it cost me." He touched the burns, grimacing.

Rhade raised his eyebrows, "I'm… I'm sorry."

"'s'okay," Trident shrugged. "_I'm_ okay. I survived. I used my head, and stayed still and I lived. My father always told me that made me a true Nietzschean. It's not about the brawl, the muscle, how hard you can head-but the guy across from you to get into bed with his mate. It's about what's up here, the ideas, the dreams. Optimism of the soul tempered by pessimism of the intellect. It's what makes us, it's who the Nietzscheans are."

Rhade smiled, "I think I'd agree with your father there."

Something about this obviously struck Trident as amusing. His scars twisted as that folded corner of his lips managed to curl upwards. "Yeah."

Khayos watched Trident talking to his father, that umbilical tube of flowing blood linking them, then turned away, determined not to be bitter. His mother was scrutinising him over the top of a box of flexi's. "Why so resentful?" She enquired, gently.

Khayos looked up from under his hair, stating simply, "I'm not."

"You're not much of a liar," Trance told him, coming to stand next to where he was still crouched on a work surface, tale hanging between his legs.

"Well," Khayos couldn't help allow a slight sourness to creep into his voice, "I guess that's just one of the many things I have in common with _my _father."

"Khayos-" But Khayos was already gone, jumping from the work surface to the floor and moving out of the door before Trance could call him back.

The star avatar sighed. She should have seen that coming, she supposed. But, of course, she could see very little when it came to Khayos. That was probably why she had named him so. He represented a kind of chaos that she couldn't see through. Maybe it was better that way.

There was something… cold about Khayos, that Trance couldn't place her finger on. He was cynical in a way that a boy his age shouldn't be. What had happened? What had taken place in the future that had turned the impish, happy, healthy little boy she could already begin to see flashes of in her future-vision into this embittered, resentful teenager?

Did she really want to know?


	22. P3: Chap 22: Rats and Teseract Drives

**Chapter Twenty Two: Rats and Teseract Drives**

A/N: I am sooo sorry, you guys! I seriousely didn't mean to keep you waiting this long. However, writers block coupled with Stargate fandom crippled my ability to write Andromeda fic almost beyond recognition... but, I have my 'Drom fandom back, and I'm ready to roll!

Vee017: Hey! Glad you could join us on the long and arduos (sp?) road that is this hellishly long fic... I'm glad you're enjoying it! We'll gradually get to see more about Trident's past, as well as everyones. However, I'm writing a series of mini-fics to accompany this epic which actually cover signifigant events in the kids' childhoods (ei: when their parents were still alive), which will flesh out what you learn here... I must be insane, but hey, there you go! The first one, 'angels and stars' will be finished soon (I hope) and covers the first time Hannah (unwittingly) meats her father and younger brother.

ChicaFrom3: Glad to hear you're enjoying this! You're idea is an interesting one (it actually hadn't occured to me before), and I think I might just use it... you'll see in later chapters, anyway. Keep reading!

ANS4Christ: It'd good to see you're still with us! Yeah, what Shailen is is a little complicated... it'll get explained in greated detail further on. I'm leaving the whole Harper/Rommie thing open to interpretation. Again, their future relationship is a little... complicated. Still, I hope you keep reading!

Callie-Cat: I'm glad you're enjoying this! :)

Christieanne-Anna: I was pretty much planning on doing what you're suggesting a couple of chapters along... Enjoy!

prin69: I sympathise with your writers block. It can be _very_ frustrating. Anyway, I think I am gonna have a scene with Khayos and Dylan. I plan to have them playing basket ball... or rather, Khayos sitting on the hoop throwing the ball at the wall while Dylan attempts to figure him out... but you'll see!

morgan: Well, I updated again! Hannah and Beka are going to do a lot of interacting, don't worry. Beka feels unnevered by Hannah because she looks so familiar, but at the same time, annoys the hell out of her. It's an interesting angle, and I've enjoyed writing about it. Anyway, Khayos and Harper, huh? Come to think about it, that's a pretty good angle too... thanks!

FlameDancer77: Um... Khayos has some major, _major_ issues with his father, which I was hinting about in the last chapter. There's a hell of a lot of teenaged angst in there, which will gradually be uncovered throughout the story. The reasons behind it will become horribly clear near the end, you'll see. Until then, happy reading!

Okay, I think that's everyone! Enjoy!

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Shailen led Harper straight back to the Maru, pulling him through corridors with a strength that was unnerving for the boy's size. He kept talking throughout, never pausing, word after word tumbling from his lips so fast that they occasionally got jumbled.

The boy's enthusiasm was bemusing. Harper had no idea why he seemed so eager to show him everything, tell him every little detail of the life he led with his older 'siblings' and Rommie. But he seemed to have very little choice in the matter, so he went with it.

Shailen left him at the edge of the darkened engine room and came back carrying a white-barred cage, with a plastic base, filled with sawdust and several colourful tubes. "Here, you have to see these guys!" He led Harper back out into the well lit corridor, and crouched down, setting the cage next to his feet. Harper came over and crouched next to him.

"My rats," Shailen explained, carefully prying the cage trap door open with his fingers. He reached in, and retrieved a squirming little rodent. "This one's called Kirk. The other one's are Piccard, Archer, and Jean-Luc."

"Enterprise captains?" Harper asked.

Shailen nodded, "yup! My dad used to tell me stories. Do you wanna hold one?"

"I… uh…" Harper was apprehensive. He did not have a good history with small furry creatures.

"I think we should get started on trying to fix the Teseract drive," Rommie interrupted, "put the rats away, Shailen. We can show them to Harper later."  
Reluctantly, Shailen placed Kirk back into his cage. "Okay… but I'm taking them out again soon!"

When he'd replaced the cage somewhere in the shadowy depths of the engine room, he took Harper's hand and began pulling him through the Maru again. Having to hurry to keep up, Harper still managed a quick look round at the unfamiliar familiarity of it all.

Clearly, this ship had had the hell beaten out of it, even more so than Beka's Maru. The layout had been changed, as well. A load of walls had been ripped out, making one bigger communal living room. The bunks were no where to be seen, and Harper began to wonder where everyone slept. Various other walls were missing, for no apparent reason, and what few doors that had been there in the first place were long gone.

Every single piece of metal that could possibly be spared had been taken out, Harper realised. They were cannibalising parts. Obviously, something on this ship needed serious maintenance.

"Here we are!" Shailen had led them right into the very bowls of the Maru; the deep, dank underbelly.

"It's uh… it's kinda big in here…" Harper managed, looking around at the cavernous room. He was sure it had never been this big, or dark, in here before.

"We reconstructed the Maru's storage bays to make room for the teseract drive," Rommie, the future Rommie, explained. "Shailen, shall we switch on the lights for Harper's benefit?"  
The boy shrugged. His eyes had turned that eerie shade of luminous turquoise again. The kid obviously had some kind of ability to change his eye sight to suit the environment he was in. "Okay."

He clapped his hands.

The air lit up. Literally. The very air itself seemed to be glowing, or at least, certain particles within the air. The glittered, bright silver, as they drifted past, casting a kind of bluish light in the cathedral-like space. It almost looked like they were underwater.

But the curious light was nothing compared to what Harper suddenly found himself looking at.

The structure in the centre of the room was unlike anything the engineer had ever laid eyes on. It was huge… yet it was tiny. It glowed, but at the same time, it was emanating darkness. It might have been cubular, or some kind of stretched diamond, four metal struts encapsulating some kind of shifting, boiling, blue. A mass of energy, light, somehow contained.

Yet it's shape, size, mass… they seemed indeterminable. It played tricks on the eyes, the mind, shifting constantly. Was it spinning? Or was the world spinning around it?

Harper blinked. He couldn't pin it down, couldn't even focus on it for more than a few seconds at a time.

"What the…"

"Interesting." Harper jumped, looking round to see the second Rommie, his Rommie, the present one, walking through the door. She must have followed them. She scrutinised the structure before her with the usual cool detachment, "you're carrying a space-time anomaly with the mass of three galaxies in your cargo hold. I'd really like to see how you pulled that off."

"Ladies and gentle men, the teseract drive," Shailen grinned, "we built it."

"Well, Shailen did," the future Rommie corrected.

"Rommie did anything that involved sharp things," Shailen added, "'cause I wasn't old enough to do that when we built this."

Harper's mind was swimming. This pretty innocent seeming kid, (albeit one who could change eye-colour at will and had a metal arm capable of sending a fully grown Magog flying across the room), had built a _space-time anomaly_? How the hell did you _build_ a space-time anomaly?

"You _built_ that?" Harper demanded.

"Uh-hu," Shailen nodded. "My dad helped me, though. He was the one who drew up the plans. He even had the idea. He just… um… he died… before he could… before he could build…" He trailed off, frowning, then looked up at his Rommie, "did I screw up the time line?"

The future Rommie smiled slightly, "I think you can get away with that."

Harper felt oddly obliged to say something. The sudden memory of his father clearly hurt the kid. His eyes had gone back to blue, but they were a more natural colour, perhaps _the _natural colour, a pale, watery kind of chine-blue, and he was chewing his lip. Awkwardly, Harper patted the him on the shoulder, "I'm… I'm sorry, kid."  
Shailen looked up, and suddenly grinned. "We're gonna fix it, though."

"The teseract drive," the future Rommie put in, before Harper could wonder what Shailen was referring to, his father's death or the space-time anomaly sitting not ten feet away, "we're going to fix the teseract drive."

"Yup!" Shailen nodded enthusiastically, "and with all of us, we'll get it done like… like…"

"Grease lightening?" Harper suggested.

Shialen gave him a blank look, "what?"  
Harper shook his head, "never mind. Let's uh… let's get started."


	23. P3: Chap 23: Emotionally Stunted Flirtin...

**Chapter Twenty Three: Emotionally Stunted Flirting**

FlameDancer77: You pose an interesting question, but, luckily, I have an answer. (Thank God I planned this fic before I wrote it!) Okay, the reasons Harper doesn't recognise Shailen as his son from the teseract he saw in chapter nine comes from a couple of things:  
  
Firstly, Harper only saw his son for about sixty seconds, maximum, from a darkened room, at a distance.  
  
Secondly, very few ten year olds can be recognised from their baby photos, especially if you don't know either baby or child particularly well, and Harper only saw the toddler version of his son very breifly.  
  
Thirdly, the todler Harper saw had no metal arm, or any other visible machanical parts. The current Shailen is far more obviousely partially robotic.  
  
Fourthly, Harper has no idea how far into the future the kids come from. Bare in mind that, apart from the fact that Trance is related to three of them, the Andromeda crew know _nothing_ about who these people really are. They know Trance is much older than she appears, and could quite easily assume that the same goes for her children. Rommie is an Android, so is theoretically immortal anyway. For all Harper knows, these people could be from his great grandchildren's time.  
  
Fifthly, and finally, Harper has known Shailen all of... what? An hour? Two? In which time, a hell of a lot of completely out of whack things have been happening. The guy's really too busy just taking everything in to be connecting these things. It hasn't even _occured_ to him that he might be related to the newcomers yet. There's no way he's going to be able to put two and two together until he's sat down, had some coffee, and gotten things slightly straighter in his already twisted brain. ;)  
  
Hope that answers your question!

ChicaFrom3: Glad you're enjoying it! I though I might please a few people by giving Shailen a little piece of the action... ;)

ANS4Christ: Yeah, I know, Atlantis is strangely adictive... ;) But, I've managed to balance my writing out now, so I'm doing a bit of each. Keeps me happy! I'm gonna work the two Rommie's dinamic a bit more (boy, it's gonna be fun writing that chapter...-insert evil grin here-) Keep reading, and enjoy the chapter!

Callie-Cat: Here's more, Callie!

marymelon3: Awww, shucks... thanks! I hope you enjoy the next chapie!

prin69: Trust me, this fic isn't going anywhere. It _will_ get finished. (It'll probably take me the best part of the next century to do it, but hey, small sacrifices...) Though I should warn you updates are gonna get slower as of next week, 'cause I'm going back to school, and this is my exam year... but it's getting finished!

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An hour or so after the meeting in the med bay, Destiny had made up her mind to re-explore their old home, determined to take a trip, no matter how arduous, down memory lane.

And she was dragging Hope and Hannah with her, whether they liked it or not.

"Jeez, I swear it's smaller in here that I remember," Hannah commented, as they stepped onto the obs deck, which was otherwise devoid of human life. Trance, who had been quietly trailing after them, with Trident, now finished transferring blood into his father, entered after them.

"That's 'cause you were a little titch the last time you were here," Hope pointed out, with a teasing grin.

Hannah elbowed him, "who are you calling titch, titch?" She demanded, stretching onto her tip-toes to successfully elevated herself to a full two centimetres over his head.

Hope groaned, "I am _not_ a titch! I am vertically challenged!"

"Titch!" Hannah jeered, hopping gleefully from foot to foot.

Hope did a very good impression of a sulky toddler, folding his arms, stamping his foot and sticking out his lower lip, to glare accusingly at his mother, "_mom_! Why did you make me so _small_?! Do you have any idea how hard it is to be athoritive when ever single member of your crew apart from the resident child-protégé is at least a centimetre taller than you are?!" The act was given away by the grin that refused to stop pulling the corners of his lips up.

"Oh Hope," Trance sighed and patted him on the back, "don't pout, dear."

"Yeah, that's just disturbing!" Trident told him, "I mean, Destiny pouts. You stick your chest out and try to look intimidating."

"What do you mean 'try'?" Hope demanded, "I _am_ intimidating!"

Hannah snorted, "oh yeah, short man?"

"Yeah!" Hope cried, spreading his arms in an open challenge.

"Oh, you think you can take me?" Hannah asked, stepping forward, "do you, short man? You think you can take me down?"

"Bring it on, my cross-race friend," Hope grinned.

As Hannah and Hope tussled, an occurrence that was not unusual, Trident, Destiny and Trance observed from the sidelines. "Do they do this often?" Trance asked, frowning.

Trident shrugged, "sure."

"All the time." Destiny agreed, "any chance they get, they like to try to kick the stuffing out of one another. They're so emotionally stunted, I think it's their way of flirting."

"Of course," Trident shrugged again, "it's all foreplay. That's the way it's been done for centuries."

"In which dimension?" Destiny demanded, giving him a funny look. "I haven't seen you try to throw any girls through a wall lately."

"That's because there are no…" Trident stopped abruptly and blushed, clearing his throat rather nervously.

Destiny giggled. She liked making Trident squirm.

Trance was quietly examining scenarios. Some very interesting possible futures were springing up…

"So, mother, how's reality?" Destiny interrupted her mother's hypothesising with a disarming smile.

"Confusing," Trance admitted, managing to return the smile. "What does it look like from your side of the time line?"

Destiny shuddered, "you don't want to know."

Trance was rubbing at her nose, "I don't suppose you could tell me who Khayos's father is…"

"You already know," Destiny pointed out.

"You could be helpful and confirm it for me…" Trance wheedled, looking hopeful.

Destiny shook her head, "sorry, mother. It doesn't work that way."  
Trance sighed and resigned herself to fearful suspicion.


	24. P3: Chap 24: KerThunk

**Chapter Twenty Four: Ker-Thunk. **

Thunk.

Ker-thunk.

Ta-twang.

Thunk.

Dylan stood in the entrance to hydroponics, listening to the unmistakable sound of somebody bouncing a ball off a wall. He couldn't see the thrower, or the ball, but he could hear the ball, and logic commanded there be someone throwing it.

He'd come here looking for Trance. He wanted to have another, preferably detailed, conversation about these kids, and who exactly they were. She clearly knew more about them than she was letting on. That, and the fact that she already had a son, was kind of unsettling.

"Trance?" He called, stepping into hydroponics.

"She's not here."

The voice that called back to him was flat, despondent, cold and uninterested. The voice of a teenage male, and one who had seen too much blood at that. Dylan fought a sudden urge to turn round and walk back out of the garden. He did not want to be confronted with the angst of a teenaged time traveller.

On the other hand, he had wanted to know more about them…

"Hey," Dylan stepped round the corner, looking round.

Ker-thunk.

Ta-twang.

Thunk.

"Up here."

Dylan blinked, and looked up.

Crouched expertly on the basket ball hoop, tale hanging down, unnervingly bright blue eyes watching accusingly from beneath thick dark hair, blue skin glinting in the harsh fluorescent light, looking almost like some kind of avenging demon, was Trance's middle son. Khayos, Dylan recalled. He was holding the basket ball.

"What're you… doing up there?" Dylan managed, lamely.

"I'm throwing a ball," Khayos stated, in a tone that stated clearly that he thought the question a pointlessly stupid one.

"I see…" Dylan watched as Khayos let the ball fly. It hit a nearby wall, bounced at a diagonal angle, hit the floor, and bounced up again. Khayos grabbed it from the air as it flew past and calmly repeated the process.

Ker-thunk.

Ta-twang. 

Thunk.

"You, uh… you play basket ball?" Dylan ventured, after a few seconds of unbearable awkward silence. Well, awkward for him… Khayos seemed bent on ignoring him totally.

"Used to."

Ker-thunk.

"Used to. I see." Dylan ran a hand through his hair, "what… made you stop…?"

Ta-twang.

Thunk.

"There isn't room on the Maru." Khayos paused only for a second, to blink coldly at the starship captain, before throwing the ball again.

"Ah, well, there wouldn't be." Dylan was beginning to realise he wasn't going to get anywhere. "Do you… know where Trance is?"

Ker-thunk.

"No."

Ta-twang.

Thunk.

"Any… guesses?" Dylan went out on a limb. Was the ability to… make guesses… genetic?

Ker-thunk.

Ta-twang.

Thunk.

"I don't make guesses." Khayos didn't look at him. His tone remained dead-pan, detached.

Ker-thunk.

Dylan moved fast, snatching the ball before it could bounce. If Khayos was surprised, he didn't show it. All he said was, "can I get the ball back?"

"I'll make you a deal." Casually, Dylan bounced the toy. Khayos inclined his head slightly, one pointed ear showing through his hair. Dylan tossed the ball from hand to hand. "I ask you a question. If you answer, you get the ball back."

The blue half breed lowered his eyelids, allowing his eyes to take on a sleepy, inattentive look. "'Kay. What if I don't answer?"

"I keep the ball," Dylan told him, "and you play basket ball with me."

"Trade basket ball for Go, and you'll get yourself a deal," Khayos told him, dead-pan.

"You play Go?" Dylan was still tossing the ball from side to side.

"Yes." That look was back; cold contempt at another pointless question.

"Huh," Dylan examined the ball.

"Can I get the ball back now?"

"What?"

"I answered your question, didn't I?" Was that a cold spark of dry humour in the boy's eyes?

Dylan looked up at him. He'd been beaten at his own game. He shook his head, and tossed the ball at the teenager, "you're good."

"I get it from my father." With a smirk, Khayos caught the ball, and leapt nimbly from the basket ball hoop…

Only to get his tale tangled round his legs and end up crashing rather inelegantly to the floor.

Before Dylan could offer help, the boy was back on his feet, anger in those cold eyes. "I'm fine."

"So I see…" Dylan frowned slightly. There was something distinctly un… Trance-like about this kid. He was different from his family somehow.

Khayos threw the ball at Dylan and walked past him, out of hydroponics, "I get that from my father, too."


	25. P3: Chap 25: A Visit to Med Deck

**Chapter Twenty Five: A Visit to Med. Deck **

A/N: Hiya, people! Okay, this is a little Beka/Rhade interlude that is really me shaking off the last of my writers block and warming up to start off again. But I had fun writing it, so enjoy! The next chapter is more interesting, 'cause I finally get to play with the two Rommie's interacting! Yay! Anyways, read and review!

Pyral: Hey there! I don't know whether you're still reading this, but so far you've reviewed up to chapter sixteen, and still going strong. I'm glad you decided to start reading! Anyway, in answer to your early questions, Trance made a promise to her son as a baby. I'm not telling you what that is, but it has to do with some messed up future stuff, which will get revealed later on. Also, Trance couldn't see Khayos coming because I'm writing under my own artistic license, deciding that Trance can see all futures except her own. She can see snippets of what will happen to her through other people's futures, but she can never directly see what's coming to her. Khayos is the only one of her children who was concieved 'normally', ie, with two people involved, one of which was human. He was a part of her future, because she had to carry him and give birth to him and raise him, etc, thus, she couldn't see him coming in the same way she could Destiny and Hope.

Oenone: Glad you decided to read this! You're a Trekkie? I never would have guessed! ;) Anyway, thanks for the trivia. I'm not the world's majorist trekkie, but I've been known to watch it on Sunday afternoons. Anyway, hope you enjoy the next chapters!

Andy: Good to hear from you! Just review every few chapters or so, and I'll be happy. What Shailen is should become much clearer in the next chapter. As for Khayos... read and find out!

Christieanne-Anna: Well, I'm glad you're reading now. Enjoy the next chapters!

NalanaSpinderofSouls: Good to have you back! I'm trying to make the kids like their parents... but not. Slightly exagerated, or slightly twisted, or slightly more depressed, or slightly more hyper incarnations of their genetic donars, so you can tell they're related to or where influenced by their parents attitudes and characters, but without making them basically minniversions of their parents. I'm glad you think it's working!

Sangga: Aw, jeez... -insert blush here- thanks. You can quibble my spelling. I know I get it mixed up. It's not my greatest strength at school. I usually run my stuff by my beta (my older brother), but sometimes I don't so I can get chapters up quicker, sorry about that. However, I'm seriousely flattered you think my writing is that good. I'm gonna be an author when I'm older, so what you're saying is really encouraging. Thanks!

Callie-Cat: Hey there! No, Khayos isn't fond of his father. He has issues of the large and (literally) universal kind. All will be revealed as to the true parenthood of all the kids eventually, until then, keep reading! :D

Prin69: Thanks! You like this fic so much you'd be willing to spam-mail me if I stopped writing? Wow... that's actually a very cool compliment. Keep reading and reviewing, and I hope you keep enjoying this!

Morgan: Thank you! Hope you enjoy this!

Mysteral: Thanks! I liked the name Shailen cause it sounds a little like Seamus without being too similar. Plus, there's a really nice, but kinda goofy guy at my school called Shailen too, who I'm basing Shailen the robot-child on a little here. I'm glad I convinced someone who doesn't normally like OC's to keep reading this. I don't normally read OC fics either. I don't normally write them, 'cause I know the potential for them to go disaterously wrong. However, if I sceptic likes this, I must be doing something right!

CeredwenFlame: You'll get Shailen antics and insight into Future-Rommie in the next chapter, so enjoy!

ANS4Christ: Thank you! I hope you enjoy the next chapters!

FlameDancer77: Thanks! I'm quietly setting Hannah and Hope up, as you might have noticed. Some... uh... interesting future things are gonna happen (we're talking in five, ten years time), to those two, which... in a round about way, we'll get to see. Anyway, keep reading!

IrishcLover: Thank you! Here's more!

Phew! That's everyone! Enjoy the next chapters guys, and keep reviewing!

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Rhade was contemplating the pin-prick on his arm where the plastic tube ferrying blood from Trident to himself had gone in. It kind of itched… and his head still hurt, and his chest ached, despite the fact that Trance had fused all the broken ribs back together again. And his legs smarted too, from where the Magog had clawed at him when he had tired to kick it off.

"Hey there, soldier."

Rhade looked away from the fascinating view of his elbow, to blink in surprise at the blond pilot who had, mysteriously, appeared at his bed side. "Oh, um… hey, Beka."

"How're you doing?" Beka asked. She looked a little awkward, like she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, or why. She was still wearing his bracelet. He smiled, "I'm… I'm doing okay."

"That bad, huh?" Beka tipped her head slightly, a smirk threatening to tug up the corners of her lips.

"I… kind of have a head ache…" Rhade struggled to sit up a little.

Beka waved a hand at him dismissively. "Ah, stay where you are, you God damn martyr. You want something for that head ache?"

Rhade grimaced, "that would be nice."

Beka disappeared from view, and he heard the clatter and rustling of cupboards being opened and closed, their contents searched through until the right pain killers could be located. She reappeared, with a glass of water and two white tablets. "Here we go," she sat down on the edge of Rhade's bed, "for all Trance's fancy inoculations and hydrosprays and… whatever else she has in here… still can't beat a good old fashioned aspirin."

She placed glass and tablets down, took hold of Rhade's shoulders, and hauled him into a slightly more upright position, or at least one where he wouldn't choke. Rhade groaned and struggled. "Still got that… charming… bedside manner…"  
Beka gave him a wry look and handed him the aspirin, "here. Take these. Swallow." The glass followed, and Rhade gulped it down hastily.

The aspirin was fast acting, or perhaps just sitting up had done him some good, but either way, slowly, the sensation of a thousand tiny men in hobnailed boots doing a clog dance on the inside of his skull lessoned, and Rhade felt a little better.

"So," he blinked, trying to clear his vision, "what's brought on this sudden need to play nurse?"  
Beka made a face, "I'm not playing nurse."

"No?"

"No. You bought me a ridiculously expensive, very rare, kinda pretty birthday present for no apparent reason. I figure I owe you a visit." She shrugged dismissively.

"It's a birthday present, Beka," Rhade told her, attempting to fold his arms, but stopping as the gash in his arm twinged a protest under it's stitches, "you don't owe things for birthday presents."

"Hey," Beka punched his arm, making him flinch as she barely missed the gash, "stop ruining my excuse!"

"What? Other than the fact that you so obviously crave my company?" Rhade asked, looking irritating smug.

Beka resisted the urge to back hand him across the jaw, and attempted to remind herself he had just had about half of his blood drained out of him, and made a narrow escape from under the grim reaper's claws. But really, she only didn't hit him because he looked so damn pale. Jeez, it was scary to see him looking so unhealthy.

"In your pathetic dreams, Ubur-boy," she retorted, attempting flippancy.

Rhade studied her critically from under his fringe for a few seconds. He had another one of those really, really irritating looks on his face; cool all-knowingness this time. Beka ignored him, picking imaginary fluff off the sleeves of her top.

"You are a highly strange individual, Rebecca," he remarked, after a while. "You come here under the barely standing excuse of repaying a none existent dept, in an attempt to somehow save your already limping pride, yet you are clearly simply concerned with my well-being. I can't see why you wouldn't state that as your purpose in the first place."  
Beka wrinkled her nose, "you sound like Rommie."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"This isn't a subject. My pride may be limping, but it's not dead yet." Beka poked the Nietzschean's shoulder, "I'll make up none-existent debts if I want to."

Rhade smirked, "so I see."


	26. P3:Chap26:Repair,Reality and two Rommies

**Chapter Twenty Six: Repairs, Reality and Two Rommies**

A/N: People, I'm going back to school tomorrow. The summer holidays are over, and my access to my computer is now limitted, 'cause my mum is kinda stiff about not letting me and my sister on the 'puter until homework and studying etc has been done. (I don't mind. I actually kinda need it, 'cause it's my standard grade exams this year, which means I'll actually _need_ to study). But anyway, udates are gonna slow a little bit. They'll keep coming, but they're gonna be kinda iregular (more so than they already, I mean.) Anyway, enjoy this!

****

In the deep dark of the Maru's under belly, Harper had discovered paradise.

Cold, gloomy, head-ache inducing paradise.

"This is the coolest thing I have _ever _seen," he declared, pointing at teseract drive.

Shailen, crouched in the middle of a myriad of smoked-out parts a few feet away, looked up and grinned, "told ya."

"I think I'm starting to see how it works," Harper went on, examining some wiring in a panel on a lower section of the teseract drive's base. He was avoiding looking up into the swirling vortex of the core. It was bound to make him nauseous.

"It's less complicated than it looks," Shailen said, chewing distractedly on the end of a nano-welder, "it's just the concepts you gotta get your mind round first. Really, it's just tryin' to make your brain get what you're looking at, rather than makin' it work."

"Shailen, how many times?!" The future Rommie cried, observing from the sidelines as she sorted through a pile of scrap to be made into new parts, "don't chew the nanowelders! That's very, _very_ dangerous!"

Shialen looked abashed, "sorry, Rommie." He put the nanowelder aside and picked up a blackened tube of some sort, then let out a distraught wail, "not the back-burn slider! She was my favourite! We'll never fix her now!"

"Calm down!" Future-Rommie retorted, thrusting a green-tinted white strand of hair behind an ear to keep it out of the way. "She may have been your baby, Shailen, but she's replaceable. It'll just be… harder."

Shialen only howled his frustration, cradling the broken part to his chest. "You don't under_stand_! She was my _favourite_!"

"He sounds like you, Harper," the present Rommie observed, appearing round the side of the teseract drive, from where she had been studying the base design.

"Hey, kid lost a part," Harper shrugged, "it's harsh, but it happens. You gotta learn to deal with these things, you know? Can of Sparky Cola always cheers me right up."

"Sparky Cola?" Shailen instantly perked up at the mention of his poison of choice.

"No!" Future-Rommie interrupted before the child could get hold of the can Harper was offering him. "Shailen, you used up your quotient for a week this _morning_!"

"But I want the _sparky_…" Shailen moaned, pitifully holding out his hands to the drink.

Future-Rommie folded her arms, "I couldn't stop Harper burning holes through his stomach with that stuff, but I am going to stop you."

"Trust me," the present Rommie reappeared again, "you don't want Harper's stomach lining."

"My stomach is made of bio-metal!" Shailen protested, "you couldn't burn holes through it with hydrochloric acid!"

"Bio-metal or no bio-metal," future-Rommie shook her head, "sparky cola is not something you should be drinking in such huge portions. It's bad for your teethe, and that's before we get started on the wrest of your intestines. Not to mention your abilities to reproduce!"

"Yeuch! Gross!" Shailen made a face, "thanks a lot, _mom_."

Future-Rommie stayed firmly between the boy and the sparky cola, eyebrows raised in her best 'no way in hell' expression. But inside, she flinched, then sighed regretfully. How come he only ever called her that when he was annoyed?

Shailen let out an exaggerated groan of frustration and stood up, stomping off to retrieve another spare part from his tool kit.

Present-Rommie dusted herself off and went to stand next to her future counter part. Her future self was watching the departing back of the boy with a kind of maternal pride that was worrying the first android. Since when did an AI get maternal? It was a human emotion, and she didn't like to think of herself _ever_ feeling that way.

Because she wasn't human. And she never would be.

But, then again, her senses were scrambled, and all her read-outs were out of sink. It was partly the space-time anomaly that had placed two of her into the same time zone, and partly the residual effects of the teseract drive. She didn't like being so close to something which simply _refused _to be defined. It was irritating of it not to allow itself to be categorised.

Safe to say, Rommie wasn't sure who or what or where or even _when_ she was, right then. Her sensors could no longer be trusted to tell her. She suddenly missed her core AI, and wished vehemently to be away from this place, where she could feel her 'other' selves, pressed lightly against her consciousness. Comforting, safe and warm, even if they were annoying rational at times.

"You miss them, even here," Future-Rommie observed, calmly interrupted her younger self's musings.

Present-Rommie blinked, "who?"  
Her counterpart only smiled, "don't pretend to me. I know you. I am you. We both know how our mind works. You miss your core, even when she is this close by. Only the teseract drive blocks her, and you still feel the loss."

"So?" Present-Rommie demanded, a little defensively.

Future-Rommie tucked another strand of hair behind her ear, "I have lived with that feeling for over six years. You have no idea how it feels to watch yourself die."

"Are you trying to warn me of an impending apocalypse or just attempting to 'psyche me out', as Harper would put it?" Present-Rommie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm telling you to be careful," future-Rommie answered, simply.

Present-Rommie looked away, to where Shailen was helping Harper adjust some kind of wiring on the drive base. She looked back at her counterpart. "What is he, anyway?"

"Shailen?"

"You know how our mind works."

The future-Rommie smirked, "he is a boy."  
Present-Rommie rolled her eyes, "oh, come on! You know as well as I do that that child is not a normal human. I've scanned his body. The entire right side of his brain is basically a computer chip! Half his internal organs, his right arm, his feet, his left eye; they're all mechanical parts. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that he was…"

"What?" Future-Rommie tipped her head to one side, coolly, "half android?"

The present-Rommie was brought up short. _No… no… surely not…_ "ye-_es_…" she agreed, hesitantly.

Future-Rommie looked genuinely curious, "does it frighten you that at some point into the future, a way might actually be discovered for an AI to reproduce with an organic?" She toyed with a strand of hair, "I know this is probably around the stage we were still trying to figure out how human we were, what being an avatar meant, what being an AI was… I suppose I figured that out a long time ago… or perhaps… perhaps I just stopped caring. I am Rommie. I love my children. It stops mattering after that."

Present-Rommie shook her head. How could it not matter? And… and… was she telling the truth? Reproduction? With an organic? That was impossible. That was completely and totally impossible. AI's _couldn't_ reproduce, period. It was just… it didn't happen. 

Now she really did want her AI core, if only to back her up.

"Are you trying to tell me that an avatar managed to reproduce with a human?" Present-Rommie demanded.

"In a manner of speaking," the future-Rommie shrugged. "Shailen is what he is. Make of it what you will."

"You even_ talk_ differently from me!" Rommie cried, "what _happened_ to you? I mean… me. Us. You know what I mean! How did we, you, end up… like you! We are _nothing_ like each other, and you're telling me I'll one day _become _you?"

"Well, hopefully not," Future-Rommie shrugged. "We are hear to try to prevent our own future from coming into existence, after all."

"But how…" Present-Rommie ran out of words and was left waving her hands in a helpless sort of manner, forced to resort to gesticulation to try to get across the magnitude of what this Rommie had become.

Future-Rommie smiled, "try raising six psychologically messed up children on your own for six years. It does things to you. Don't worry. The maternal instinct isn't quite as bad as we feared it would be. And I get to feel warm and fuzzy a little more often than I used. It's rewarding, in a bleak and despairing kind of way."

"Wonderful," Present-Rommie replied, flatly.

"Hey, peeps!" Hannah suddenly appeared in the entrance of the Maru, carrying a tray, "you guys feel like some food?"

"Hang on!" Shialen yelled, from round one side of the teseract machine.

"It's so-_lid_…" Hannah sing-songed, wafting the tray in the general direction of the ten year old.

Shailen promptly leapt into view, "solid food? Actual, real, solid food with taste and smell and stickiness?!"

"Grub's up, kiddo," Hannah held out the tray to him.

Shailen lunged for the tray, grabbed the plate from it, dropped into a crouched and began bolting down the food as if he were afraid someone would take it from it. Future-Rommie hastily straightened, "Hey! Hey! Slow down! Chew, for God's sake! You'll choke!"

"I'm okay!" Shailen replied, through a mouthful. He paused, suddenly, looking back to where Harper was still fiddling, "hey, you want some, Harper?"

Harper waved him off, "Na, I ate this morning, I'm fine."

"_Harper_…" Present-Rommie reprehended, gently, "you have to eat."

"I'm _fine_, Rom-doll," Harper didn't stop what he was doing. "I promise I'll eat after I'm done with this bit. I just got to do a little more over here…"

"How's stuff looking down here?" Hope arrived behind Hannah, glancing around at the curiously glowing room.

"Look, Hope!" Shailen jumped up, brandishing a chicken wing, "solid food!"

"I know, kid, that's great," Hope waved him off, "but how's the _teseract drive_?"

"Oh, right," Shailen went back to chomping on his food, and started talking between mouthfuls, "well, the good news," chomp, "is that," chomp, chomp, "by my reckoning," swallow, "we're only… four years out of sink with where we needed to be." Chomp, chomp, "you can chalk that down," chomp, "to Khayos. He's good." Swallow, "unfortunately," chomp, "teseract drive has lost," chomp, "mosta it's parts," chomp, chomp, swallow, "we can replace 'em," chomp, "but it'll take time," chomp, "my guess… like a month," chomp, swallow, chomp, "if we work really fast an' nothing goes wrong." He put aside his chicken wing and picked up another. "That's my best offer, boss."

Hope groaned, "a _month_?"

"Well, we're screwed," Hannah remarked, rather unhelpfully.

Hope put a hand over his eyes, "Shailen, we have to get out of here quicker than that. The longer we stay, the more messed up the time-space continuum gets. The fabric of reality can't cope with two Rommie's in the same time, let alone two of _me_. It'll start to pull apart within a couple of weeks. We have to get of here before seven days are up or we are all toast!"

"I get _that_," Shailen rolled his eyes, "but there's nothing I can do! I'm a super-genius, child-prodigy, all knowing, all powerful, yadda, yadda. But I'm not a freakin' God! The teseract drive ain't just a machine, it's organic, it changes and it has moods and fixin' it is like micro-surgery! One slip, and ca-bloowy! Good by reality! It takes _time_!"

"Which is precisely what we don't have," Hope sighed.

Hannah grinned her feral grin, "ironic, huh?"

"Hannah, seriously, not a good time to be flippant."

"Since when is it ever? If reality is about to spontaneously combust because of us, we might as well laugh while we can." Hannah seemed unfazed.

Hope flung his arms up in despair, "alright! Great! Keep working! Work fast! Pull one of your miracles out of the bag! But move _quickly_! I'll go and tell the venerable captain Hunt to baton down the hatches, 'cause the universe is going down the plug hole!"

"No one said this would be easy," Hannah shrugged and bounded after Hope as he strode back out of the room.

Shailen and Harper looked at one another, then at the two Rommies.

"I'm thinking we should be getting to work," Harper suggested.

"Good idea," Shailen agreed, dropping his food.


	27. P3:Chap27:PepTalksfromunexpectedSources

**Chapter Twenty Seven: Pep Talks From Unlikely Sources **

**AN:** Sorry for the lack of updates, guys, but like I said, being back at school doe sthat to a girl. That and Stargate fandom being irritatingly distracting. However, Stargate Atlantis is on hiatus until January and the new series of Andromeda starts tomorrow, so I should be back on track for a while! Enjoy!

Shadow-Spider: Thank you!

Harper's Pixie: Thanks. Sorry your computer went wonky. Mine has disagreements with sometimes too. I hate when that happens. Anyway, enjoy the next few chaps, and I hope you don't get any more grief from your machine!

YVH11B: Boy… clearly, you know a lot about sci-fi. However, I do have answers for your questions. The thing about Shailen is… well, okay, this is going to be long. I was going to integrate this with the story, but I've looked at it, and realised that I really don't have time. Right, everybody reading this? Then let's begin:

**How Shailen Was Made: **First let me state that I only have a partially completed Intermediate Two Biology Course under my belt (that's between Standard Grade and Higher, for any fellow Scots out there, and between GCSE and A-level for any English.) Anyway, I haven't even taken the final exam yet, and I dropped Chemistry and Physics a while ago, so it's highly likely that none of this would ever work, even in theory. However, that's why they call this fiction! So, in my version of DROM history, at some point in the future, this is what happened: Harper (for reasons too long and complicated to get into, but it stems from the basic fact that he realised that he was middle aged, wanted kids and had no woman in his life to give them to him), used his DNA to create a set of cloned stem cells. However, again for reasons too long and complicated to get into, complications ensued, and Rommie came to the rescue by offering her own nano-bots to help out. Harper, with a lot of very tricky engineering, managed to bind his stem cells with a set of Rommie's nano-bots, which they had carefully programmed like a human gamete (half of the instructions to create new, if artificial, life, the other half of the instructions coming from Harper's stem cells). They then placed the little resulting partially mechanical Zygote (an embryo before it becomes an embryo, basically just a blob of cells with the potential for human life), into an artificial womb; a tank filled with crio-gel, a substance that would supply the growing embryo with oxygen and nutrients. The zygote grew into an embryo, the embryo got bigger, and Rommie's nanobots replicated themselves with Harper's cells, building a child that was partially mechanical. Unfortunately, this being a very experimental procedure, things inevitably went wrong, and it became apparent that the baby they were growing was little more than a part mechanical corpse. Things had gone wrong with the formation of the body, because things had gone wrong at a fundamental level when the nano-bots were first bonded with Harper's cells, although what exactly went wrong, we may never know. The point is, Shailen as a baby wasn't good for much. One of his arms was mostly missing, as was one of his eyes, the other one of which wasn't really functioning, his feet were deformed, his lungs were dangerously under developed, as was his heart, brain and stomach. He almost certainly wouldn't be capable of conscious thought, or feeling. He wouldn't even survive outside of the artificial womb, because his lungs were too deformed to work properly, and his heart couldn't beat on it's own. If Shailen were any mere science experiment, he would have been scraped and Harper would have started again. But Shailen wasn't any mere science experiment. Harper had come to think of this thing as his son, and couldn't just give up on him. So, with Rommie's help, he launched a desperate attempted to save the baby. They created artificial respirators instead of lungs, and grew him a new stomach, liver and heart from more of Harper's cells. The most challenging thing they did was essentially recreated Shailen's brain, within a microchip. They took pains not to program in any personality traits, because they wanted him to develop on his own, but it does now make Shailen think at least partially like an AI. They also made him a pair of artificial eyes (thus the fact that Shailen can change his eye colour at will). That and the more obvious metal arm and a pair of feet. While Shailen was still in the artificial womb, they operated on him, inserting the new parts and saving his life. He was then left in the womb for a further six months (already having been in there ten), while the new organs took. Eventually, Shailen was born, and although he occasionally still had trouble breathing, he developed into a healthy young boy. One more thing I'll clear up, however, is why Shailen has dark hair while Harper is blond. Firstly, Shailen _is_ naturally blond, but I wanted Shailen to have more of a link to Rommie. He isn't just 'Harper's kid', he's also as close as Rommie will get to having a child (he was created using her nano-bots, after all). That, and Shailen has nano-bots in his hair (he is part android, after all), so can change his hair colour at will. He changed as he was growing up on the Maru after everyone died, because he clung to Rommie so desperately. He'd lost everything else, and was terrified of loosing his last protector, to the point where he tried to be more like her in an attempt to keep her close.

Right, that done, onto YVH11B's second question. Honestly? Calling them fusion grenades was a mistake that I can't be bothered changing. In hindsight, yes, calling them sonic grenades would have been more fitting, however, I was literally making that part up as I went along. Before I started to write how they worked, I had no idea how they worked. I just knew they had to kill Magog effectively. 'Fusion Grenades' sounds vaguely sci-fi-ish, and I just made up the name off the top of my head while I was writing. Besides, Shailen was the one who created them, and he _is_ ten years old. It's likely he called them 'Fusion Grenades' because the name sounded cool. ;)

And that thing with Beka being Hannah Solo? Interesting, but I have honestly never heard it. I have no idea why I called Hannah 'Hannah'. Her early incarnations were named 'Samantha', better known as Sammie, or Sabrina, better know as Sabbie. However, Samantha smacked of Stargate, and Sabrina sounded too much like 'The Teenaged Witch', an image that I really didn't want to induce. One day it was just like she got tired of the chopping and changing between the names of her character, grabbed me by the throat from my computer screen and yelled, 'hey, my name's Hannah! Deal with it!', and that was that. J But I'm glad you liked the character so much!

NalanaSpinderOfSouls: Thanks! I had a lot of fun writing the Rommie-Rommie interaction. Anyway, hope you don't find school to harrowing!

Andy: I'm glad you like the Hope 'N Hannah stuff I'm working on. It's hard to set up a pairing between original characters and keep people interested. I hear what you're saying about Hope, and you will get some insight soon, I swear, but I'll offer you an explanation now as to why he acts like he does: Do you remember what Trance was like when she was purple? For the most part she was this innocent adorable little pixie. Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. You wouldn't suspect her of a thing. And yet at the flick of a switch she could become the most sinister, threatening little demonic driad you have ever seen. She covered her true nature with a façade of something so totally the opposite of who she really was, no one would ever suspect it. Hope does the same, although his façade is different to his mother's because, well… it simply wouldn't work on him. He acts arrogant, full of himself, tough and generally unbearable. But the truth he… isn't. He cares deeply about his crew. He's terrified of loosing them. He's terrified of screwing up. He loves his siblings and he grieves for his mother far more than he lets on (which you will see in later chapters). The point is, he's working the same thing his mother was before him, protecting himself and his true nature with a double personality completely opposite to his true one. If you're wondering, Destiny does almost exactly the same thing, but to a lesser extent. Hope that answers your question! Also, I know the story is currently slow moving, but the second part of the plot will be kicking off in about… uh, four chapter's time? Give or take? Soon, anyway. Enjoy!

Christieanne-Anna: Thanks. Most of this is unbetta-ed however, if only to get it up quicker.

ANS4Christ: Hey! Well, I explained how Shailen's got made above, so I hope you understand now… And I never said they got together ;)… it's… uh… complicated. You'll see more of it later on, and in my spin-off series about the childhoods of my characters. With the future they save, well, again, it's complicated, but you will see… bits of it. And I do mean 'bits'.

Kate: Ooops… sorry this took so long to get up! But, things have been a little hectic for me recently. Anyway, I'm glad you like this so much! The whole reason I'm writing this is because it's something that would look good on TV but you know they would never be able to do… at least, not on this scale. It's what makes fanfiction so fun! Anyway, thanks so much for the comments. I'm glad you think my characters are so well written!

Oenone: Another update for you… hope Eighth Grade isn't too bad! Maybe this'll cheer you up… ;)

Callie-Cat: Hi there! Glad to see you still reviewing (and on Ex-Isle!). Anyway, about Rommie not wanting to feel maternal? The idea terrifies her because it's a very human emotion, and Rommie is currently bent on the idea of _not_ being human. She doesn't want to be one of those sad AI's who goes around denying their origins as a machine and trying to be an organic. She's embracing her mechanical roots. However, future Rommie came to the realisation a while ago that _what_ you are isn't really what matters, it's _who_ you are on the inside. You don't define existence. You just exist. I hope you understand now… enjoy the next few chapters!

Jnp: Yeah. My stories tend to be a weird, mutated mix of sarcasm, humour, irony and tragic teenaged angst. I'm twisted like that. :p Glad you're enjoying it, though!

Pyra1: Hey! Yes, the 'ship has you! It will draw you in and hold you hostage until you are brainwashed in the ways of the 'ship! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! _Achem._ Anyway, enjoy the next few chapters!

FlameDancer77: The irony of 'Hope is dispair' wasn't lost on me. ;)

Phew! And now…. On with the next chapters!

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Hope was marching up out of the deep of the Maru's intestines, back into the dimly lit metal hallways beyond, by the time Hannah caught up with him. She was tugging irritably at her hair as she just about managed to keep up with his pace. It was coming out of it's Mohican, and she needed to fix it or just let it down entirely. And since there was not time to get a brush, letting it down entirely was feeling like the better option.

"Hope! Hey, golden boy, slow down a sec, will ya?" She demanded, yanking out a clip and taking several long, honey-red strands of hair with it. She didn't flinch.

Hope stopped so abruptly that Hannah almost crashed into him. "What?"

"Just don't wanna get left behind here," Hannah shrugged and smiled impishly. Her hair was hanging limply around her shoulders, lank from lack of washing in weeks, perhaps months; the dyes fading out for lack of replacement. She looked younger with it down, more childish. It had been cut at ragged, uneven angles, so that some of it hung down almost to her waist, while some tendrils trailed round her ears. She pulled out a final clip, tucking it into another pocket, and shook the last vestiges of the Mohican out, dissolving into a semblance of normality. Take away the tattoos and add some decent, new clothes and a bath, and she might have been anyone.

"You know, you keep stressing out, you're gonna get ulcers," Hannah folded her arms and eyed Hope critically.

"I don't get ulcers," Hope retorted.

Hannah waved her hand, "yeah, yeah, invincible friggin' superman, right? But you really have to cool off. You're skull'll be inside out like _that_, you start loosing it now."

"Thanks for the imagery, Han."

"You're welcome." She poked him in the chest.

Hope sighed. She really did look younger like that. Too young, really. Too young to be in this. With them. And she was one of the oldest. What about Trident? What about Khayos? What about Destiny? What about _Shailen_, for Divine's sake?

"We're screwed, aren't we?" He asked, looking at her from under a fringe of fiery red hair.

Hannah grinned, dryly, "jeez, Hope, they really named you that for a reason, didn't they?"  
Hope shook his head, "I'm _supposed _to be able to do this. Save the universe. Stick it back together again, piece by piece. Keep it together."

"With what?" Hannah demanded, "string and chewing gum? No one can single-handedly save reality, boss man. It doesn't work like that."

"Well then _what_?" Hope asked, frustration darkening his eyes, "what are we gonna _do_? I can _feel_ the world coming apart around us, Hannah. We don't know what damage we've already done by coming here, but the futures I'm seeing are even more confused than normal and that is _never_ good. We're trying to save reality, and every move we make seems to make things worse!"

"Again, I'm thinking your mamma should have called you Cynic, or Pessimism or something," Hannah folded her arms. "Look, Hope, we've been in tighter spots than this before. Remember when we had to work around the time when Trident was conceived? I nearly stopped my own brother from coming into existence! We have to get out of this. We _will _get out of this. 'Cause if you've given up, then there ain't no hope for the wrest of us. Pretty literally, actually."

In the time it takes to blink, Hope experienced nearly three hundred different outcomes, and snapped off all but four of them. One, he continued to moan. Two, he stiffened his upper lip and got on with it. Three, he ran to his mother and pleaded for help. Four, he kissed Hannah and forgot about everything for at least a few seconds.

Four was actually kinda tempting, except that he knew she'd break his nose… and besides, he couldn't afford to forget right now. So he settled for shaking off his despair and attempting to work out what to do. Hannah was right. If he gave up, what was the wrest of the universe going to do? "We'll have to go to Dylan and tell him," Hope sighed, "who knows? Maybe he'll think of something."

"Ah, the great captain," Hannah shook her head. "You know, I heard that ceasing to exist is just like going to sleep in a giant blender."

Hope took her arm as they left, "Hannah, did I ever mention that you're my sunshine?"

"Well… yes," Hannah sighed, "but don't spread it around. I try not to be anybody's sunshine. It's bad for my image. I go more for the psychotic gun-wielder side of things."

"I know." Hope smiled.


	28. P3: Chap 28: Bad News

**Chapter Twenty Eight: Bad News**

"You're telling me that the universe is about to go down the plug-hole, and there's nothing you can do about it?" Dylan asked, staring at the pair of young people standing in front of his desk.

"Probably, yes." Hope nodded, "but nothing is ever certain."

"But this is pretty certain," Dylan persisted.

"On a scale of one to ten…" Hope waved a hand, "nine point five it's going to happen."

"Fantastic." Dylan muttered. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Look. You cannot be serious. You can't just turn up on my ship, bring half a worldship of Magog with you, announce you're only here by mistake anyway, and then say 'sorry, but reality is now official screwed'! This… this is insane! Suddenly the universe is ending?"

"Yup." Hannah nodded, "and not for the first time."

"Well, that's just great," Dylan looked as if he was going to fall into a fit of hysteria, "that's just _absolutely fantastic_! Magog, the worldship, the abyss and hey! Let's destroy reality while we're at it!"

"All in a day's work." Hannah shrugged.

Hope sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, "look, captain Hunt, we appreciate that this probably isn't what you want to hear right now, but the fact is, we need your help. We have to fix the teseract drive and get out of here, if we have a hope in hell of saving the universe, let alone you and your crew and this ship."

Dylan held up his hands, "all well and good, but what do you want from us? What exactly can we do here?"

Hope and Hannah glanced at one another. Both felt the sudden helplessness of children who have just realised that their parents are not, in fact, all powerful. As children, Dylan Hunt had been the answer to everything. He always knew what to do, how to do it, how to settle an argument, solve a problem. But now they were grown up, and the illusions of a flawless idol were long gone.

"Don't do anything." Hope began, suddenly, "or rather, do whatever you were going to do before we showed up. We need you to act as if we're not here. We can't risk screwing up history any more than we already have. Everyone on my crew apart from myself and Rommie have yet to be conceived. We have to be careful or we could cancel ourselves out."

"Just… act like you aren't here?" Dylan raised an eyebrow.

Hope nodded, "we'll stay on our Maru as much as possible, and you try to keep clear of us."

Dylan rubbed his eyes, "okay… do nothing. Fine. I can live with that. Just… do something about the whole… end of the universe, alright?"

"We're working on it," Hope promised.


	29. P3: Chap 29: Interogation

**Chapter Twenty Nine: Interrogation**

"Hey!"

It was Beka, running to catch up with Hope and Hannah as they headed back to the Maru.

"Oh boy…" Hannah muttered.

"You realise, every second she spends with us, history gets a little more twisted…?" Hope murmured, as they swung back.

"Oh yeah."

The pilot was hurrying after the pair of them up the corridor, her expression saying clearly that she would not be brushed off. "Hey, I have to talk to you for a second!"

"We're screwed." Hannah sighed, "I know that look."

"On a scale of one to ten, how screwed?" Hope asked.

Hannah shook her head, "thirteen."

"My lucky number."

"Shut up."

"Can we talk about the Maru?" Beka demanded, stopping in front of Hannah.

Hope and Hannah exchanged a glance, then Hope decided to make good his escape, "I'll leave this one up to you, Han." Before she could protest, he darted away, and Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Typical guy." She looked at Beka, "okay, what? And make it quick. Reality gets more screwed every moment you spend with me."

"Fine," Beka folded her arms, "where the hell is my ship?"

"In the docking bay," Hannah answered, evenly.

"Not _your_ ship," Beka rolled her eyes, "_my_ ship. The one that was there before you guys showed up. Am I ever getting it back or is it gone too?"

"It'll be back," Hannah shrugged, "once we're gone."

"And when will that be?" Beka raised an eyebrow.

"Right after the universe self combusts," Hannah replied.

"Fantastic."

"That's what Dylan said."

"You don't call him captain either, do you?" Beka put her head on one side.

Hannah was instantly uneasy. 'Either'? Damn, why was her mother so intuitive? She knew she looked a lot like a younger Beka, and also realised, too late, that she was wearing the bracelet her mamma had given to her as she died, the same one on the current Beka's wrist.

Oh yeah. They were screwed.

"Never have, never will," Hannah tossed a strand of thick, lank, dirty blond hair out of her eyes, "was that all, or do you wanna interrogate about where we come from too? 'Cause, y'know, I really can't tell you. Universe ending apocalyptic stuff."

"Right," Beka shook her head, "Rhade. How did he end up hurt?"

"Something to do with the big hairy Magog that jumped on him." Hannah deadpanned.

"So it had nothing to do with you guys?" Beka persisted. Hannah was starting to think she knew where this was going, "nothing at all?"

"What? You think we're egotistical maniacs about to go round making altercations with a rocket launcher?" Hannah asked, "jeez, what do you take us for? We don't go around attempting to kill our own ancestors!"

"Fine." Beka brushed it off, "but if you've come back here to hurt anyone, or kill someone, or anything like that, you _will_ pay for it."

Hannah rolled her eyes, "look, Beka. One ass-kicking maniac to another, even if we were here to kill someone, you wouldn't be able to catch us in a million years. Anything we do here is to prevent one of the worst fates possible falling on you, your crew mates, and _your children_. We lived that future, and we don't want to do it again. So let us do our job, and try not to get in our way."

She turned on her heal and was gone. Beka was left with an odd feeling in her stomach.


	30. P3: Chap 30: Discussion

**Chapter Thirty: Discussion**

"All I'm saying is, I don't trust them." Beka held up her hands.

"Because they scare you," Trance finish.

"No!" Beka waved her off, "they just…"

"Scare you." Trance smiled.

Beka rolled her eyes but couldn't argue.

Rommie grinned.

They were back in their cubby hole, the three of them, Beka back in her cushion chair, Rommie and Trance in their hammock seats, discussing events.

"Okay, fine," Beka waved a hand, "this whole thing is just way beyond the weirdness scale. It's seriously screwed up. Don't you just… doesn't this whole thing feel… kinda off, to you guys? I mean, time and space are not meant to be screwed around with like this."

"How can we know what's meant and not meant to be?" Trance asked, gently, "these things are bigger than any of us know, Beka. Does time run in a straight line, or is it so much more complicated that we just can't grasp it?"

"I still say this whole thing feels wrong," Beka shook her head.

"There are many theories of quantum mechanics that say what our guests are doing is technically possible," Rommie put in.

"But who knows what their agenda is!" Beka persisted, "they could be here to kill someone, for all we know."

"They don't want to kill anyone." Trance told her, firmly.

"How do you know?" Beka demanded.

Trance only fixed her friend with a silent, piercing look, for a long few seconds, "those are my children, Beka. They're better than that."

Beka looked down. "Sorry."

Rommie cleared her throat, "at least you guys don't have to look at yourselves from… who knows how far into the future."

"Your older self…" Trance mused.

"That's the weirdest thing." Beka rubbed her eyes, "I mean, jeez, she is… out there."

"You haven't talked to her," Rommie shook her head. "I don't… I just don't understand her. She's so completely different to… she's everything I don't want to be become."

Trance tipped her head to one side, a silent question, at which Rommie rolled her eyes, sighing for effect. She tossed her hair back and clasped her hands, trying to find the words, as she tried to pin down exactly what it was about what 'she' had become that unsettled herself. "She seems so… so…"

"Organic?" Trance suggested.

Rommie shook her head, "no. She seems like an AI who's forgotten that they're _not_ an organic. She… she's become… she doesn't _care _what she is anymore, she just _is_. It's like… it's like she's become one thing, and then decided not to move."

"She grew up." Trance stated. "She didn't pick her roll in life, it was thrown at her. But she did it anyway, raised that crew, and she became 'fixed'. She stopped evolving as a person, and froze into one position. Sometimes it happens."

"But it _shouldn't_." Rommie frowned, "an AI is made to be constantly learning, and evolving, and moving on. We have to, or we go crazy. Look what happens when we get fixated on one thing, one person, one objective for too long! Look at the Pax! Look at Gabriel!"

"One of the many things that has to be corrected," Trance shrugged. "It's what they're here to do."

"And I feel so much better now, really," Beka muttered, examining her fingernails.

Trance glanced at her, but said nothing. She knew from experience that she could not manipulate Beka's thought process the way she could with Harper, Rommie, Rhade and even Dylan. Beka didn't work that way, and she would remain doubtful until she could be proved otherwise. She didn't trust easily, which was perhaps understandable.

Incredibly frustrating, but understandable.


	31. P3: Chap 31: Scarred conversation

**Chapter Thirty One: Scarred Conversation**

AN: People, I'm on a roll! New chapter up, bearly twenty four hours after the last! Okay, this one is longer, and I swear, the plot will kick in in approximately three more chapters. Keep reading and reviewing! Thank you!

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ANS4Christ: Thank you! Jeez, I'm embarrassed here… I am attempting being an author right now (fanfic is good practise), so your comments are seriously encouraging!

Oenone: Thanks! You are so lucky, seeing the season five premier… I wont see it for another two years!

NalanaSpinderOfSouls: Ah yes, impending doom is nigh! Here's more!

LadyV77: Hi! No, I didn't really plan it, I just kinda started writing. And Beka is… working on it. She's not stupid. She knows there's something about Hannah that she can't place. Maybe she'll figure it out… maybe not! You'll have to read and see!

Harper's Pixie: I got the banner up! Link is above. I'm glad you're enjoying this so much!

Jordan: You're welcome! Just keep reading and reviewing!

Shastalily: Thank you! Boy, I'm making people think with fanfic… I _must_ be good…

Irishclover: You're welcome. Yeah, this is turning into something of an epic… I am halfway through, just about, but we may have a long way to go before I'm finished. ;)

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It was around midnight, ship-time, that Beka found herself standing, cold and uncertain, outside the Maru.

She knew she shouldn't be there. Hell, she shouldn't be anywhere _near _the Maru. But she had never slept well onboard the Andromeda. The only place she ever felt truly safe to doze off was the Maru, her ship, her home, a metal cocoon to wrap herself in, like an old, familiar duvet.

And her insomnia had led her here, back to the source of her over-worked troubles.

_Turn around, Beka…_

The pilot bit her lip. All she had to do was leave, go back to bed, close her eyes and wait for the whole screwed-up mess to disappear. Or, alternatively, watch the universe destroy itself, as Dylan had elaborated over dinner that evening.

But she was going in anyway. She knew she was. She always did what the better angels of her nature warned her against. More sinner than saint, that was the Valentine in her.

The Maru was eerily silent, the air still, no trace of it's time-travelling inhabitants. Beka stepped inside, pulling the hatch closed behind her, listening to the heavy quiet. Somewhere, deep within the ship, there was a soft creaking, and a rushing noise as air was channelled through the pipes controlling life support. The sound of the Maru 'breathing' as it slept. Beka felt a slight sense of relief at the noise. Some things never changed.

Out of nowhere, the sound of someone humming suddenly echoed into existence, and Beka instinctively ducked out of sight behind a stack of metal crates near the entrance. Destiny appeared, dressed in white night-dress, a blanket wrapped round her shoulders for warmth. She was skipping, delicate feet making hardly any sound of the Maru's metal floor. Her hair swung behind her, and her lavender-brushed skin flickered silver and blue in the dim fluorescent light.

"Khayos?" She called, disappearing round a corner, "Khayos, where are you? Have you seen my toothbrush?"

Her voice faded away, and Beka waited a few seconds before stepping out of hiding again, fighting an urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

A shadow darted by over head and she jumped, back on her guard, looking up. Something leapt across the metal beams in the Maru's ceiling, it's skin dark in the shadows. Only a pair of brilliant blue eyes and what appeared to be a tale trailing after it made the creature recognisable as Khayos, apparently determined to get away from his sister.

Beka stiffened, wondering if she had been spotted. But if Khayos had seen her, he didn't seem to care, the dark figure continuing on his journey without a pause, slithering across the ceiling and disappearing again.

Letting out a breath of relief, Beka started to walk again. She trailed one hand along the wall, feeling the familiar touch, reassured that her ship was still here. She came across an open door, where she had been sure there had been none before, and found herself looking into what was apparently a laundry room. Piles of old clothes, some of which were actually disturbingly familiar, where scattered across the floor and on every available surface, with an old bench against one wall. An archaic looking washer and dryer stood in the middle of the room.

Trident was slouched on the bench, his back to her, bouncing something metallic off the opposite wall.

Swiftly, Beka turned round. She shouldn't be here. She _shouldn't_ be here. As fast as she could without making any noise, she headed back in the direction she had come, only to be stopped in her tracks by a voice.

"Y'know, the universe is screwed whether you stay here or not…"

Beka turned. She was faced with Trident, his horribly scarred face lifted in an oddly hopeful look. He wore only a vest and a torn, baggy pair of slacks. His feet were bare.

He jerked his head in the direction of the room he had been sitting in, "you wanna come throw coins at the wall?"

For a second, Beka was torn. She looked back over her shoulder, the way she had come, then at the scarred, hopeful, teenaged boy watching her. Then she shrugged. The universe _was_ pretty much screwed either way. And hey, what else was she gonna do? How many times did a girl get to talk to a kid from the future? "Sure. Okay."  
Trident smiled. It was an odd kind of grin, hard to really see, because of the way the burns on his face made his mouth constantly down turned at one side.

Beka followed him back into the laundry room, and sat down, a little awkwardly, next to him on the bench. Trident waved a hand at the piles of clothes strewn over every available surface, "just shove some of those out of the way."

"Where did they all come from?" Beka asked, unceremoniously tipping a load of them off the bench to make room for herself.

Trident shrugged, "we used to use the Maru as a store closet, back… before all that stuff happened. Everything got left in here. We never threw anything away. You'd be surprised how clothes just… don't get thrown out."

"So I see," Beka picked up what was definitely one of Harper's old Hawaiian shirts.

Trident was flicking some kind of coin across the room. It would chink off the opposite wall, hit the floor, bounce, and be caught again. His rhythm was quick, easy, fluent. Beka watched him, frowning at the deft precision of his actions, wondering where she had seen them before. Perhaps it was just a Nietzschean thing.

"What's the music?" She asked, after a while. A tune was drifting through the ship. Something classical, on a violin, she was pretty sure…

Trident cocked his head, then shrugged, smirking, "Shailen's 'sleepy tune'."

"What?"

"When Shailen was a baby, the only way he'd sleep was if Rommie played him Vivaldi's Sonata in C Minor," Trident elaborated, "now he has to have it played to him every night or he wont sleep. Not that he really needs it. Kid can get by on about an hour a week. But Rommie makes him sleep each night. I guess she wants him to keep a regular rhythm or something. I mean, the wrest of us screwed up our body's internal clocks years ago."

"Right," Beka picked up another top, this one looking distinctly like something Trance would have worn when she was purple. She looked back at Trident, "do you ever sleep?"  
Trident shook his head, "not when I'm supposed to. Can't stand it. I get dreams if I sleep when I'm supposed to. Usually I just sit the night out, sleep during the day. You can learn a lot about people if you listen to them at night."

"Like what?" Beka raised an eyebrow at him.

Trident held up a hand for silence, tilting his head as if he were listening to something. There was a shriek suddenly, the slam of a door, and the hammering of footsteps somewhere above, echoing into nothingness. "Hannah," he said, after a moment, "happens every night. She gets nightmares. She doesn't know I know. Give it a few seconds…" sure enough, moments later, another door slammed, and another set of more even footfalls headed in the same direction, "Hope," Trident nodded, in satisfaction, "he goes after her. Half an hour, they'll be back in their rooms. God knows what they talk about."

"Every night?" Beka asked, listening to the footfalls.

Trident nodded. "Shailen's tune finishes in three, two, one…" the music stopped. "He'll be asleep by now anyway. In three minutes, Destiny'll come running by looking for Khayos. She always looks for him before she goes to bed. I think she's scared he'll run off sometimes, y'know? He has issues."

"I noticed." Beka grinned, wryly.

Trident smiled back. He had missed Beka. Perhaps more than even his own father. He mourned for his father the most, cursed his passing. But it was Beka's presence at times like these that he felt the lacking of more than any others. She had been so easy to talk to, calling him 'short man' and 'carrot-top', (for his hair had been far redder as a child). Like they were just a couple of friends hanging out, rather than a psychologically twisted insomniac of a small boy and his father's girlfriend, sitting in an empty cargo hauler in the middle of the night. He almost wanted to ask her the age old question, 'are you gonna marry my dad yet?', the one he'd asked her nearly every night for three years, to which she would instantly reply, 'have you told Destiny you like her yet?'. It had become something of a running joke between them.

"What's this stuff?" Beka had picked up a jar full of some kind of oily substance on the floor next to Trident.

Trident took it off her, "it's for my scars."

"What does it do?" Beka asked, insomnia loosening her inhibitions about asking questions as effectively as alcohol.

Trident shrugged, "stops them cracking. There's no way for any oil to get onto them, 'cause basically most of my pours were melted shut around that area. So I have to do it artificially."

"Moisturiser?" Beka asked, holding back a grin.

Trident rolled his eyes, "_for my scars_. Actually, it's mostly engine grease these days. We haven't got anything else."

Beka couldn't help a smile. This kid was okay. Despite the scars, he wasn't quite as… off-putting as Hannah was, with those eerily familiar blue eyes and what she was now convinced was her own bracelet around the girl's upper arm.

He was slouched back in a sleepy, casual kinda of way, though he was now flicking his coin again, and his reflexes were as sharp as ever. His smile, though bent at one end, was oddly recognisable. She _had _seen it somewhere… somewhere…

"You shouldn't be here…" The voice lilted in a way that sounded as if it's owner was about to burst into song. Destiny was standing in the doorway, looking misleadingly accusatory.

Beka sat up, "me?"

"Who else?" Destiny raised an eyebrow, and Beka was suddenly and forcefully reminded of Trance. Like mother like daughter…

She stood up. "I'm going."

Trident sat upright, a look that might have been disappointment washing briefly across his features before his face became once more a simple, sleepy mask. "It… it was nice… talking to you." He offered.

Beka looked at him, then found herself smiling. There was something oddly appealing about Trident, "yeah. Nice talking to you to."

She left, as abruptly as she had come.

Destiny sighed, tipping her head at Trident. He glanced away, uncomfortable under her gaze. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"That!" He waved a hand at her, "like I'm the Grinch who just stole Christmas because his poor heart was too small!"

"Who?"

"Forget it." Trident sighed and slumped.

"Trident…"

"Oh, leave off, Destiny!" His irritation stung, but he was tired and more than a little angry with her.

She regarded him stonily for a few quiet seconds, then turned on her heal and was gone, "fine."

Trident looked at the space where she had been a few moments earlier, the moaned softly and buried his head in his hands. He had a sour feeling in his stomach, of the same kind he often woke up with after one of his dreams, like he wanted to be sick but knew he wouldn't be able to. His scars itched. Damn, he was bad at this!

"You're one for melodrama, you know that?"  
  
And there was Destiny, back in the doorway as if nothing had happened, with two mugs of water. He blinked at her, dumbfounded, until she giggled and handed him a cup, coming over to perch on the edge of the archaic washing machine. "But you really shouldn't have let her stay."

"I don't _care_, Destiny!" Trident snapped, still unable to forgive her, "all I wanted, all I've _ever _wanted, is to be able to talk to her! Five minutes, Destiny!"

"You had five minutes." She told him, gently, "you had more. And you shouldn't have. Trident, this is bigger than our need to talk to our long-lost step parents! It doesn't work like that. Do you think I don't want to go and find Dylan and demand one last game of Go? Or Basketball? I miss him _so_ _much_. I miss all of them. But if we have a chance in hell of saving them, destroying reality is_ not_ an option!" Her eyes sparked suddenly, something shimmering just beneath the surface, a warning, a reminder of who, what, she was.

Trident eyed her critically for a second, "I liked it better when I thought you were harmless."

"So did I." Destiny sighed, softly.

"And Beka wasn't my step-mother," Trident broke the silence after a few moments. "She never married my dad."

"She gave birth to your sister," Destiny pointed out, honestly.

"Still not… look, there's no technical term for this stuff, okay?" Trident shook his head, "she was my dad's girlfriend. She was my sister's mother. She was my _friend_. And she was the one person on the whole ship who managed to make me feel like I was normal. All I needed was…"

"Five minutes." Destiny smiled slightly. She grabbed a nearby piece of clothing, bundling it up, and hurling it at him, "this life is a mess, you know that?"

Trident caught the ball of cloth, and found himself holding, to his astonishment, one of Beka's old tops. Black wool, laddered with deliberate holes. It was one of the things he remembered her wearing a lot, and he'd dug through the room trying to find it on hundreds of occasions, yet always turned up a blank. He blinked at Destiny, but her air was one of innocent disinterest, as she sipped her mug of water and looked elsewhere.

The material smelt of engine grease and citrus soap. Trident inhaled deeply then sneezed, eyes watering, as the dust aggravated his sinuses. Destiny giggled, then tutted in a deliberately motherly way, "for Devine's sake, Tri! Watch what you're doing there! The last thing we need is you developing Asthma too. What with Shailen's chest problems and Khayos's collapsible lungs, we have enough breathing aggravations between us to deprive the Abyss itself of oxygen!"

Trident sneezed again then grinned, in spite of himself. "You're fantastic, Destiny."

"Really?" Destiny inspected her nails, "I hadn't noticed."


	32. P3: Chap 32: Under Table, Wheezing

**Chapter Thirty Two: Under Table, Wheezing**

AN: Whoever suggested Khayos 'n Harper interaction earlier, thank you! It got me thinking, write when I needed a filler chapter, and this little scene ensued. Read and review, folks!

Awohali: Thanks!  
  
morgan: Thank you! I'm so glad you've gotten attached to my characters! It's so hard to keep people interested in OC's.

ANS4Christ: No, Harper and Shailen have been pried apart, unfortunately... but they'll get to interact again soon, promise!

NalanaSpinderOfSouls: Yeah. As you'll see in Trident's prequel, 'Scarface', Beka and Trident had a pretty close relationship. He misses her a lot sniff , but, if all goes well, they'll fix it, so let's cheer up and read the next chapter!

LadyV77: Thanks! Glad you like Trident so much. Keep reading!

Shadow-Spider: Literature? You consider this _literature_? Whow. I must be _insanely_ good. Which is wierd, because... I'm just writing whatever! Oh well, enjoy the next chapter!

Pisces: Khayos is a bit like Nightcrawler, isn't he? I'd never thought of that before... well, he's in the next chapter, so enjoy! Btw: You should no that not all of Trance's kids have the same father (if they actually had a second genetic donar at all... ;)

Harper's Pixie: wouldn't let me post the link! Oh well. The fan banner is up and ex-isle now, so you can go see it in the art section. ;)

prin69: Hannah is older than Trident, by just under a year. I did mention that in earlier chapters, but maybe it wasn't very clear. And as for Trident's mother, we have met her on Andromeda, but she's not a regular cast member. You'll find out more about her in Trident's prequel, 'Scarface', but her name is Erin Shohashi of the Tenga pride. She guest starred in season three's 'The Risk All Point', and, naturally, being female and not Beka, promptly fell into Dylan's arms. ;) But, anyhoo, in my fic, sometime later, she and Rhade struck up a short lived relationship, of which Trident was the result. More complications ensued, essentially leaving Rhade with his week old son to raise on his own. Anyway, keep reading! (Btw, I agree, they need more girl-talk type interaction between the female cast members on the show. They never go into the relationships the women hold with each other in any great detail, which is somewhat frustrating.)

Irishclover: Thanks!

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Khayos slipped beneath one of the Andromeda's security sensors, and into the medical bay. A familiar pain rose in his chest and he froze, gasping in air as he hung, half in and half out, of the door way, clinging to the wall like a spider. The pain subsided, and he crept inside the darkened interior of the med. deck.

Both previous patients had been removed back to their rooms for bed wrest, and it was empty. Any sound echoed back to him off metallic walls and floors, and he paused again, hauling himself up into the shadows between the wall and ceiling to hide. Again, the pain rose and he clung to his hiding place, a soft creaking sound from his lungs making him instantly uneasy. He just needed to breathe for a few seconds. Just concentrate on the breathing… concentrate…

He lost his grip on the cable he had been using to keep his position and yelped as he crashed to the floor, landing in a painful heap. Cursing, he got to his feet and rubbed at his stiffening joints. Stupid tail…

Another pain in his chest as he drew breath, and a definite wheezing sound. Not good. Not good at all. Time to find what he was looking for then get out of here.

He opened a cupboard, frowning slightly as he examined the content, then closed it swiftly and went to the next. Nothing again. He was half way round the room before he found what he was looking for, and, sighing a laboured sigh of relief, took a small bottle of yellowish liquid and a syringe and sat down beneath the med. deck table.

Pressing the end of the needle into the container, he sucked up some of the liquid, then rolled up his sleeve, searching for a vain, to the soft background noise of the ever increasing wheeze in his chest.

"Hey, who's in here?"

The voice bounced across the room, and Khayos groaned inwardly. Not now… _not now_…

Harper stepped into the med. deck, peering around him suspiciously, the pain in his chest already beginning to drag at his breathing. "Who's in here?"

He was greeted by the sound of someone wheezing under the table. Someone in much the same state as he was. He frowned. "Have you got that wheezing drug? The one Trance made for me? 'Cause I really need it right about now…"

Beneath the table, Khayos swore under his breath. Of course… his own medicine had been a modified version of what his mother had made for Harper. She'd told him about it often enough for him to be able to remember her words. Really, their conditions were not dissimilar, except that his stemmed from genetic anomalies in his DNA, an inevitable result of being a half breed; and Harper's came from growing up as a slave.

Still holding onto his syringe, he thrust the bottle out from under the table. Harper yelped as the hand appeared, but grabbed the bottle before his cowardice could make him change his mind. "Uh… thanks."

It wasn't so much that someone was sitting under a table, in the dark, in the middle of the night, wheezing. It was the fact that the hand had been blue, and he had seen only one blue person that day, and that was at a distance…

Slowly, still gripping the bottle to him, he bent down, and peered beneath the table.

He came face to face with a pair of cat-like, yellowish, bright blue eyes, and a cold, elfin face.

He yelped and jumped back, "Jesus!"

"I'd get a new syringe, if I were you," Khayos told him, flatly.

Harper drew breath, only to have a sharp pain shoot across his chest as he did so, and bent double, coughing. Khayos sighed, placing his own syringe between his teethe, stood up, took another needle, and handed it to Harper, "take some. You'll need it soon by the sound of it."

Harper nodded, still coughing. He took up some of the fluid into the syringe, coughed some more, patted expertly at the skin of his arm, found a vein, and pressed the metal tip of the needle in.

The coughing slowly subsided, and Harper slumped down, carefully setting the needle aside. Khayos ran a skilled hand down his arm until he found the appropriate artery. Not having very many blood vessels, the job was trickier than it would have been had he been human, but he had been doing this for himself for over six years. Gone were the days when he could rely on his mother to do so for him.

As the needle went in, he felt almost immediately a little relief. It would take a while to set in properly, but even a lessoning of the pain was welcome.

"You… you… got the same problem… as me?" Harper wheezed.

Khayos nodded, "More… or less."

"Asthma sucks, this time 'a night," Harper muttered. He frowned suddenly, "but I was under the impression your kind…" He coughed, gasped, dragged in another breath, "… didn't need to breathe."  
Khayos eyed him coldly, "I'm a half-breed."

Harper blinked, surprised. "Oh… I… uh… how'd that happen?"

"You want me to draw you a diagram?" Khayos deadpanned.

Harper waved him off, grimacing, "Okay, no, I mean… Trance and uh… what, a… a human?"  
Khayos shrugged. He wasn't getting into this, especially not with Harper. He'd sat through several wheezing fits with the sympathetic engineer as a boy, but it was a long time ago, and he really didn't feel like discussing it. That, and explaining too much about who his father was… wouldn't be good for the time-space continuum.

"So," Harper began again, avoiding the sullen look in those disturbingly blue eyes, "you… get breathing problems… too, huh?"

"Apparently," Khayos replied, dragging in another, clawing breath.

Harper leaned across his knees, coughing, "you know… what helps?"

Khayos shrugged again. Harper thumped at his fest with a fist, "if you find… just in here, between your ribs… and press in… and rub a bit. Makes it… easier."

Khayos watched the engineer for a few seconds. He knew the manoeuvre already, of course. He'd been shown it before, by the same man. But it interesting that he was offering the same free advice.

He dug his thumbs into the spot between his ribs and rubbed, gently. It hurt a little, but it was very effective. "What… sets yours off?" Harper rasped, after a few moments of silence.

Again, Khayos shrugged.

Harper laughed, raspily, "you're not much for talking, are you?"

"Some things," Khayos began, forcing out a breath of air and drawing in another, "are better left unsaid."

"Full 'a riddles," Harper muttered, leaning back a little as the pain in his chest began to lessen, "just like Trance."

Khayos coughed harshly then sighed as he felt his breathing ease, "it's a not a riddle. It's a simple truth. You don't want to know… why I breathe… like this."

"Genetic anomalies, right?" Harper asked, "I've seen what crossbreeding can produce. And some of them, nowhere near as sensible looking as you. I mean, by all accounts, you're lucky you only came out with breathing problems."  
Khayos smirked, "you call me sensible looking?"  
Harper raised his eyebrows, then shrugged, sheepishly, "you know what I mean."

"You ever tried living in a body that needs sustenance but doesn't think it needs to eat?" Khayos asked, softly, "you ever lived in a body that depends on oxygen to survive yet only has one, semi-formed lung to breathe with? You ever lived in a body that needs blood yet has no heart to pump it with? You ever had a brain that is constantly calculating odds but can't actually _see_ what it's calculating? You ever been in a body that is prone to every illness a human is, yet thinks it doesn't need an immune system? Believe me, breathing isn't the only problem my father handed to me."

Harper looked away. He couldn't stand the accusatory stare anymore.


	33. P3: Chap 33: Future Vision

**Chapter Thirty Three: Future Vision**

Dylan stood on the observation deck. Sleep wasn't coming easily tonight, as it wasn't for many of his crew. There was something in the air, an unsettled lurching feel to the place that made him uneasy, and made his temples throb. Time and space were moving, and it was making him ill.

A soft pattering of feet, and he turned around, to see Trance racing into view. Except…

Except she was different.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a pale blue dress that left her shoulders bare and came down to her knees; a wide brimmed straw hat sat at an angle on her head, and she was carrying a wicker basket, looking for all the world as if she were going on a picnic. Before he could speak, there was a squeal, and a little boy skidded to a halt behind her, crashing into her and practically tripping over his own tail.

He was an awkward little creature, all elbows and knees and a tail that seemed rather too long for him; bright, royal blue skin that glittered in the half light of the obs. deck; a shock of black hair under his own straw hat, and large, piercing blue eyes. He wore a white sailor uniform, of the kind there would have been thousands of years ago on Earth, all white threaded cotton with blue ribbons; and he was clutching a teddy bear.

"Dylan," this Trance said, quickly grabbing the boy before he could fall.

The boy clung to her, peeping out from under her shoulder, for he was tall for his age, "dad?"

"Hush," Trance covered his mouth.

"What's wrong?" Asked the boy, looking confused, "something's wrong, isn't it, mother? Isn't it? What's going on? I'm scared. I don't like it."

Trance seemed frozen to the spot. She kept a hold on her child, as if afraid he would run to Dylan, which he might well have done. Her eyes darted swiftly around the observation deck, took in Dylan, took in the lowered lights, took in the deck, opened her mouth, closed it, then lifted the boy into her arms, showing considerable strength, considering his height, "hush, Khayos."

"Mother…" the boy began to moan, fearful and painful, into her shoulder.

Another pattering of feet, and… Trance. Dylan's Trance, this time, the current Trance, came skidding through the observation deck doors. Her face was ashen, her eyes full of tears. She took one look at her counterpart and her son, and clapped her hands over her mouth, emitting a low moan of despair.

The two Trance's stared at one another for a split second, before the current Trance held out her palm, "I know, now."

"No you don't," the other Trance tightened her grip on her son, "you have no idea." She nodded at Dylan, "keep him safe."

They were gone, shimmering away in a haze of blue and gold.

Dylan and Trance faced each other across the deck. Slowly, Dylan opened his mouth, "Trance…"

"Dylan, please, listen to me-"

Dylan cut her off, "Trance, I have to know; who is, will be, Khayos's father?"

"Dylan, you have to understand-"

"He called me _dad_, Trance."

Trance buried her head in her hands. She couldn't do this now. She couldn't deal with it. There was too much… so much… all of it, crashing down on top her.

"What you saw was an echo of something that _could_ be," she told him, before he could start again, "and if you want that particular future, I would suggest you stop thinking about it right now and focus on the present."

Dylan drew breath, stopped, thought, let the breath out, opened his mouth to say something, then stopped again. "Okay. Okay, let's forget about it. Forgetting. Just… I'll forget, okay?"

Trance nodded. Her hands were shaking, and she was still very pale. Dylan frowned, "what's wrong?"

Trance took a deep breath, "it's Thompson."  
Dylan frowned, "the lieutenant who was wounded? What about him?"

Trance's lower lip trembled. Her eyes suddenly filled with quiet tears, "he's dead."


	34. P4: Chap 34: Cheating Time

**Part Four: Chapter Thirty Four: Cheating Time**

WarAdmiral: Dylan and Khayos had a somewhat complicated relationship. Dylan loved his son. Khayos... wasn't so sure. And I should warn you, there are some things about Khayos that not even he or Dylan know about. ;)

prin69: Bad things? My friend, 'bad' doesn't even cover what's about to happen... -insert evil grin here-

Harper's Pixie: I'm glad you liked the banner! I think there'll be more Shailen/Harper interaction the chapter after next... -does calculations- yeah, that's about right. ;)

Oenone: Yeah, but I had to kill someone off, 'cause I needed a way for the timeline to fall apart. It's still heavy him dieing, but 'cause I only mentioned him briefly earlier, the audience don't get too caught up in grieving for a character they like, or anything. Glad you liked the chapters!

shastalily: Awww, shucks...

ChicaFrom3: Thanks! Yeah, Harper and Khayos got on okay in his past. They're actually pretty similar people. ;) Anyway, enjoy!

NalanaSpinderOfSouls: Yeah, that chapter was basically Khayos angst. He's generally angsty, y'know? I'm glad you enjoyed it. Keep reviewing!

ANS4Christ: I don't think Harper technically has Asthma on the show, however it is widely accepted that his immune system is completely shot from life a slave. I presumed he'd probably have at least a couple of breathing problems. Creative liscense... ;) Lt Thompson I mentioned very breifly a few chapters back. He was the other guy who got injured when Rhade was hurt when the Magog turned up with the kids. Trance is upset because a) she feels for her patient and partially blames herself for his death, and b) you're right, the guy isn;'t supposed to be dead. This means things in the time stream are now _royally_ screwed.

Awohali: Thanks!

kaitins: The inspiration for Khayos's DNA problems came from the biology lesson we'd had that day at school, to do with how they sometimes cross things like horses and donkey's to make mules, and tigers and lions to make Tigrons, and other wierd things, but how, though those species can produce living offspring, the babies usually have something wrong with them. Mostly they're just infertile, but other times they have far bigger problems (like Khayos needing blood but having no heart, etc). Anyway, enjoy!

CeredwenFlame: You like plot twists? You're gonna love what I've got in store... Not in the next chapter, perhaps, but coming up, oh yeah, I have some biggees... ;)

Ann: I'm glad you decided to review. Just keep doing it every few chapters or so, and I'll be happy. ;) All the other kids will eventually get their own prequils. Hannah's is the only one ready to get going at the moment, though Trident's isn't far behind.

SomeoneElsesDream: Thanks! Keep going with your own fanfic, eventually it's worthe effort. Keep reading and reviewing!

Christieanne-Anna: thanks. Sucks that you were grounded, but maybe this'll cheer you up! :)

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_Somewhere in t__he future,  
Lies the darkness of my soul,  
Somewhere in the future,  
Lies a world I can't control,  
Somewhere in the future,  
Lie my children,  
Strong and true,  
And somewhere in my future,  
There is still a place for you. – Vedran Children's Rhyme _

The funeral for Lieutenant Thompson was a sombre affair. In a way, it was lucky he had no close family members to turn the body over to. It would have been nigh on impossible to explain to them how an entire horde of Magog had appeared in the Andromeda's cargo hold.

Apparently he had gone into shock from internal bleeding shortly after returning to his quarters and collapsed. By the time medics got to him, there had been nothing they could do.

Trance was tearing herself up for not noticing the bleeding when she had checked him out of the med deck. But the implications for the wrest of the universe were far, far worse than anyone else could imagine.

"Stupid," Hope addressed his crew in the Maru, his expression stern and cold, "we were stupid and we were careless. One death that should never have been is enough to tip reality out of our grasp. We have to fix this thing, and we have to do it _now_."

"I've told you!" Shailen cried, "we can't fix the teseract machine quick enough! There's gotta be another way!"

"Then we need to find it soon," Trident said, calmly, "or the entire universe goes to hell in a bone basket."

Hope let out a long breath, rubbing his temples. There had to be a way out of this. There just… _had_ to be. Desperate, he looked at his younger sister, almost always a saving grace in such situations. "Dessi, can you think of anything?"

"The only other way to do this is if we start deliberately disrupting the time stream," Destiny stated, "thereby causing reality to fall apart faster, inducing teseracts and giving us a window out of here. But it would mean that we would then have to go round and correct everything we disrupted, at the same time as stopping Thompson dieing and, well, saving our parents."

Hope looked round, "does anyone else have any better ideas? Anyone at all?"

Hannah held up her hands, "hey, I'm only here for the ride and my mama's ship. You star-people are supposed to be the brains of this operation."

"I'd like to second that," Trident put in.

"And I'd like to say that as the resident child prodigy and coming from a family with a long history of paranoia, this is complete suicide!" Shailen cried, the exclamation sounding rather comical coming from a ten year old. Hope flashed the boy a look, and he shrugged sheepishly, "but no. I got nothin'."

"Precisely." Hope sighed, "look, Destiny's idea is extremely risky. But… do we have any other choice? Rommie, can you think of anything?"

The android, who had been silent throughout the debated, now looked up, making a sound rather like a sigh. "Though my brain is the size of a planet, logically, none of this is possible. I haven't any_ idea_ what we should do."

"Alright," Hope ran a hand through his hair, "looks like we have no other choice."

"You mean we could…" Trident raised his eyebrows.

"Spend time with our parents?" Shailen asked, his face suddenly lighting up, "actually spend time with them?"

"Hell in a bone basket, here we come!" Hannah cried.

"And with those historical words of reassurance," Hope swept out his arm, "let's go screw up history!"


	35. P4: Chap 35: A second Future Vision

**Chapter Thirty Five: A second future vision**

AN: This chapter is dedicated to my good friend, Asha McKay, from Ex-Isle, the original Trance/Dylan 'shipper. The following is all her fault. If she hadn't made me such a rampant 'shipper, I swear I'd still be sane... ;) Seriousely, this one's for you, Asha! Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause there wont be time for it after this!

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Dylan covered his eyes as he walked back into his quarters. Over a week since Lieutenant Thompson had died, and he hadn't gotten a decent night of sleep since. His head was pounding, no matter what Trance gave him, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to eat properly lately.

He gave a low moan of pain, opened his eyes…

And realised he was no longer standing in his quarters.

Well, he was, just… well, they wouldn't be his quarters for several more years.

Someone was in the shower, the familiar sound of pattering water emanating from the steamy open door of the bathroom at one end. The room was much lighter. Dylan blinked in surprise. He could see green grass, a forest, water, the morning sun, outside of his window. He was still on the Andromeda, but the Andromeda was… on a planet.

A lot of the furniture had been replaced or rearranged, and the place was crawling with plants, including, he realised, with an oddly unsettled feeling in his stomach, Trance's bonsai, in splendid isolation on a table in one corner of the room, a candle burning next to it. He frowned. Okay, this was… weird.

Curious, but careful not to make any noise, he went to a table, and picked up one of the photographs that sat there, in it's holoframe.

Trance, and him, and three children, all of whom he instantly recognised. Trance was dressed in the same clothes she had been when he had encountered her and the younger Khayos on the Obs deck. They were standing under a tree in a meadow somewhere. He was holding a little girl in a pink summer dress, her hair a cascade of copper curls, her skin a bubble gum pink. Destiny, he realised, at about seven or eight years old. She had her arms wrapped round his neck.

Trance leaned against Dylan's other side, one arm around his waist, the other around Hope's shoulders. Hope, his skin a dusty shade of blue, was dressed in an odd sort of green tunic, under which was a white shirt, with a pair of dark red baggy cargo trousers. He looked about twelve.

Khayos, in his sailor suit, stood in front of and between Trance and Dylan. He looked a little shy and self conscious, his tail wrapped around his mother's ankle, one hand clutching the hem of Dylan's coat. Dylan's hand wrested on the boy's shoulder.

They looked… like a family.

Suddenly the sound of someone humming tunefully could be heard from the sitting room. Dylan swiftly placed the photo down, and just had time to duck out of sight behind a particularly precocious shrub, before Trance entered from the next room, carrying what looked like a multicoloured daisy in a pot.

Her hair was loose again, hanging freely around her waist, with only a pair of delicate silver clasps in the front to keep stray strands from getting in her eyes. Clothed in a simple white summer dress, she looked… radiant.

He'd never seen her quite so… content looking.

She carried her plant across to the window sill and held it to the light as if the get a better look at it, inspecting it with a critical eye. Then she stopped, frowning suddenly, and looked straight at the plant behind which Dylan was hiding.

Dylan froze, convinced he had been spotted.

Trance opened her mouth, as if to say something, then changed her mind, and called instead, "Dylan?"

Before Dylan could answer, a second voice echoed from the bathroom, "yeah?"

Trance shook herself, as if dispelling a dream, and smiled, before calling back, "nothing!"

Dylan watched as she set the plant on the window sill, stroking it's petals, then went over to examine the bonsai, picking up a pair of clippers and snipping off a few leaves, before investigating the soil in another shrub. Apparently finding it too dry for her liking, she picked up the plant and carried it into the bathroom.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he edged around the plant to an angle where he could see into the bathroom.

Trance was standing at the sink, sprinkling water over her plant.

"Hey!" An indignant voice from within the shower, just out of sight, "can't a guy get a little privacy round here?"

Trance rolled her eyes, "you left the door open!"

"That's not an invitation to just walk in!"

Trance laughed, "then what is, exactly?"

"Privacy is tantamount to a good relationship, Trance!" The voice retorted.

"I thought that was honesty?" Trance made a face in the direction of the voice, something Dylan guessed the showerer couldn't see.

"And privacy!"

Trance shook her head, lifting her plant out of the sink. A mischievous grin suddenly curled up the corners of her lips, and she glanced slyly over her shoulder, before swiftly turning on the hot tap full blast.

There was a slight delay, then a satisfying yelp from the shower. "Aargh!"

Trance bent double with silent laughter. Dylan flinched. Anyone in the shower would just have been given an ice bath.

"_Trance_!"

Trance shrieked and dived out of the bathroom, skidding across the room, followed by… Dylan. Several years older, beginning to grey a little, not in quite as good shape, dripping, and barely covered by a towel, but Dylan none the less.

"You devious, nasty, conniving little sun-demon!" He cried, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

Trance looked overly shocked, placing a hand on her chest, "_me_?"

Dylan beckoned, "come here…"

Trance shook her head and backed off, her innocent look replaced by the old mischievous one. They were either side of the bed, and every time one made to go one way, the other would lurch the other way, effectively bringing them to a stale mate. After a few seconds of this, the future Dylan got fed up and leapt across the bed, making Trance shriek again and jump out of the way. She very nearly made it into the sitting room, but Dylan grabbed her before she could clear his range and hauled her off her feet.

Trance struggled weekly, but it was clear she wasn't particularly interested in escape.

"Put me down, you deluded star ship captain!"

"Oh no!" Dylan grinned wickedly, "you're not going anywhere! Now… what are we going to do with you?"

Trance gave him an indignant look, "you're not doing anything with me, captain!"

"Oh is that a fact?" Dylan raised an eyebrow, "even though you dunked me with ice water?"

Trance managed to look prim, despite her position, "I blame Ruby."  
Dylan glanced back at the plant, still in the bathroom, "it's always the plant, isn't it?"

"They're more powerful than you think," Trance told him, seriously.

"Well then," Dylan swung her round suddenly, making Trance laugh with indignant delight, "why are there so many in my bedroom?"

"_Our_ bedroom," Trance corrected, poking him the chest.

"Our bedroom," he agreed, more gently.

He had leaned down to kiss her, and got as far as her top lip, before Beka suddenly appeared, striding through the room with a hand over her eyes. She was older, again, and her hair was fiery auburn, hanging in thick waves just past her shoulders, a scar on her cheek where it hadn't been before.

"Don't mind me! Just moving through! Left my flexi in the other room! Continue with the kinky wet towel making-out-ness! I'm fine!"

Trance and Dylan exchanged looks.

Beka reappeared with the flexi, still covering her eyes, "and leaving now! Hannah and Hope have gone missing again, think you should know Destiny is planning to steal Hope's journal tonight; going to dinner with Telemachus, watch the kids for us! See you later, hopefully with clothes on!"

"We should really put a lock on that door," Dylan sighed.

Trance laughed, putting her arms around her neck, "it's nice to have so many people around again."

"Yeah, but not when they come charging through_ our_ bedroom at a time like this!" Dylan cried.

Trance looked coy, "a time like what?"

"Mmmm…" Dylan kissed her gently, and the younger Dylan was preparing to make a break for the door and hope another teseract swallowed him, when Trance suddenly yelped and jumped out of her lovers arms, "Ruby!"

She rushed back to the bathroom and rescued the plant from it's steamy doom, "high temperatures are not good for you!"  
Dylan groaned and covered his eyes, "plants before sex. Always, plants before sex. Why, oh why, did I marry this woman?"

"Aah! Naked Dylan! Oh God, _my therapy bills are gonna be so high after this_…!" A girl, about ten years old, with long strawberry blond hair and Nietzschean bone blades, came charging through the apartment with her eyes closed, dragged by Hope.

"I'd second that but we have no time!" Hope cried.

They both disappeared into the sitting room, and much scuffling could be heard. It sounded like they were trying to move the furniture around.

Hope's voice echoed out of the sitting room, "you may also find it interesting to know, that there is a second, younger version of Dylan hiding in that awful over-grown shrub in the corner!"

But before he could be seen, Dylan felt the world shiver away from him, and he was back, in exactly the same place as he had been, in the entrance to his quarters, with a splitting head ache.


	36. P4: Chap 36: Discovery

**Chapter Thirty Six: Discovery**

AN: Whoo! Finally! Yes, okay, I'm sorry, you guys, but I've been very busy lately, so it's been ages. But I have to tell you, after this update, I'm officially suspending work on _all_ of my fanfic until mid December. Don't worry, this _will_ get finished, but I have some pretty important exams in the coming weeks, and fanfiction is the last thing on my mind right now. More will get done over the winter break, and then I have more exams around May, lasting about another month. Just to let y'all know what's going on! Anyways...

pilotgurl: Thank you! I'm glad you decided to read this, and reveiw!

Ablia: Well, I'm updating now, so enjoy!

halhawkes: Welcome to the fandom, my friend!

SomeoneElsesDream: here's more...

LadyV77: I'm going to find time to read COTS at some point, I promise. I actually really wanna know how it ends... but, as I've said, I'm snowed under with work right now, so as soon I as get a few spare minutes, I'll get on it. Thanks for reviewing!

Meg: Thanks! (Simple, but also true).

Christieanne-Anna: Here are some more chapters for you!

CeredwenFlame: Thank you. Here's another update!

WarAdmiral: Don't worry. Beka and Rhade will spend a huge chunk of the latter part of this story together, so you'll see lots of action with those two a bit later on. ;)

Harper's Pixie: I thought a few people might like that line... it just sounds very Harper-second-generation-ish, I thought. Anyway, as for your request, you can read and find out...

Keltica: Thank you! It amazes me that so many people find my ratehr twisted sense of humour so amusing... but oh well! Keep reviewing, and enjoy!

NalanaSpinderOfSouls: I was a little high on sugar when I wrote Beka into that scene. It just kind of seemed to work... enjoy!

shastalily: I like Dylan with Trance too. It's kinda sweet. However, watch out for a few 'ship-twists over the next few chapters. All is not as it seems... -insert evil grin here-

ANS4Christ: But I have come to rescue you from hanging there! So, read on, my friend, and review in the wonderful way you always do! :D

Andy: I have to admit to being annoyed at the writers for screwing Dylan's character over like he currently is; mainly I just try to write him as he was in the first couple of seasons. However, I've always found golden Trance kinda fascinating. It just interests me, what happened to her. But I'm glad you think I write the pair so well. However, as I said to Shastilily, watch out for 'ship twists...

Oenone: Thanks! Enjoy!

prin69: I'm so glad you thought this was funny! A lot of people really don't get my sense of humour... and yeah, Hope and Hannah have always kinda been hangign out together. You'll get more on their 'past' (in a round about way) in the next couple of chapters. Enjoy!

Okay, that's everyone! And I will warn everyone now, I write to confuse... let me put it to you that there are certain things about their past that not even the kids know (apart from possibly Destiny, but you'll find out about later). Suspisious? So am I... -evil grin-

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"Harper!" Harper looked round, to see Shailen bounding towards him down the hall, his eyes alight (quite literally) with happiness.

"Oh, uh, hey kid," Harper felt a little bemused, "aren't… aren't you guys supposed to be… on the Maru? Staying away from us?"

"Change of plan," Shailen said, happily grabbing his future father's hand and pulling him into the machine shop. "So can I see your machine shop? What does that do?"

"Oh… sure," Harper allowed himself to be towed in, "that's… that's just… something I've been working on…"

"Really? Cool! What does it do?" Shailen looked up at him hopefully.

Aw hell… Harper sighed. Well, why turn down a chance to show off? Not like people were cueing up round the block to appreciate his genius. With the funeral that morning, he needed a distraction; something to stop him thinking about that blank, cold face looking up at him through the casket lid as he shuffled past to pay his last respects. And for some reason, this kid apparently worshipped the ground he walked on. Might as well give him a show…

"Okay, well, this is a quantum resonator," Harper began, swinging promptly into super-genius mode, "and on it's own, it's not much use, but when you connect it_ this_…"

Shailen drank in every word as if his life depended on it. He bounced around like a puppy on steroids, constantly asking question after question, his bright eyes flashing from brown to blue to silvery-grey as he talked. He knew a disturbing amount about quantum physics, Harper soon found out, and even more about the up-keep of Androids; but there were still one or two things Harper could show him that the kid didn't know yet.

"And if you just bypass the carbonator like that," Harper explained, some hours later, as they crouched in front of a panel on one of Harper's latest inventions, "your coffee comes out just as steaming, and stays that way for an average of fifteen minutes longer."

"_Cool_…" Shailen breathed, "can I try?"

"Sure, uh, there's a clean mug round here somewhere…"

"Oh, don't even think about it Shailen!" Rommie appeared, the future Rommie, her hair tugged back into an awkward pony tail, a few strands hanging loose. She fixed Shailen with a cold stare until the boy backed down, sighing.

"But I need caffeine…"

"You over dose on it daily!" Rommie cried, "have you got any idea what it does to your body?"

Shailen huffed unhappily but didn't argue, picking up another of Harper's 'toys' and fiddling with it experimentally.

Harper got up off the floor and quickly grabbed a nanowelder from where he'd dropped it, edging closer to the future Rommie as he did so. For a second, he found himself staring at Shailen, as the boy fiddled. His eyes were focused, his eyebrows drawn together in a thin line of concentration, tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth. He tugged at a wire, scrutinised it closely, reinserted it, examined the results. A glance at Rommie revealed a disturbingly proud look on her normally passive features.

Harper managed a nervous smile, "he's a bright kid."  
The future Rommie looked a little smug, "well, he is the greatest scientific break through since the discovery of slipstream."

"Huh," Harper looked away. It felt as if someone had just dropped a burning stone into the space where his heart should have been. Shock froze him to the spot. He'd heard her say that before. Or rather… he would…

"Would you… excuse me… for a minute…" Slowly, Harper backed away.

The minute he was out in the corridor he broke into a run and bolted for Dylan's office, "Andromeda, where's Dylan?"

"His quarters, why?"

"I have to talk to him. It's very, very important." Harper shot round a corner, came to a ladder and jumped down it. "Tell him I have to see him now. Tell him I think I know who our guests are."


	37. P4: Chap 37: Brushes and Visions

**Chapter Thirty Seven: Brushes and Visions**

Beka was brushing her hair.

It wasn't an activity she ordinarily took much time over, but today… well, she had some issues to work through. That feeling of something not… right had intensified today. It hung over the whole ship, a cloud of impending doom, heavy and uncomfortable.

Not that it was ever easy, loosing a crew member. The whole ship seemed to lurch with the loss. Andromeda took every body to heart. Her crew were her soul, and she felt every death. Even Trance, who normally had something enlightening to say about every dire situation, that might just make it feel like things could go on, was depressed. Her ability to see possible futures had apparently been clouded by the shifts in the time-space continuum, so had not seen the impending death of their crew mate, and she hated herself for it.

Beka kept brushing, working on a knot with brutal effectiveness. She had known Thompson, if vaguely. It jarred, loosing someone just like that. And thinking about it unsettled her. Because really, it shouldn't have happened. If time and space were meant to be messed with, Thompson wouldn't be dead.

And it could just have easily have been Rhade.

That was another thing that disturbed her. He was frequenting her thoughts far too much for it to be healthy, these days. She paused in her brushing, and fingered the bracelet for a second. Blue gems winked at her tantalisingly in the soft honey drop glow of the half-lights of her quarters. Hannah was wearing her bracelet. She was sure. The teenager had it clipped safely up near her shoulder, as if to prevent it getting in the way.

She had familiar blue eyes, and bone blades, and Rhade had told her Trident was her half brother. She was wearing her bracelet. Her eyes…

Beka shook her head. There was something she was missing here, she knew. Some connection that held everything together, something she was simply… failing to see. Like a piece of a puzzle that had slid under the carpet without being noticed.

What had Trance said? _Does time run in a straight line, or is it so much more complicated that we just can't grasp it?_

What if what she was seeing was just… too big for her to comprehend?

Like staring at a building so huge, the only thing she could see of it was a single brick, and then having to try to work out the shape of the thing.

"This is insane," she told herself, setting down her hair brush and tossing her hair back, sending nanobots skittering and turning it a temporary shade of auburn.

Then Beka stopped, and frowned. Her reflection frowned back at her. Without a word, Beka tossed her hair again, lightening the shade a little to a dirty, coppery strawberry blond, lengthening it, thickening…

Ah.

"And there's my missing piece," she muttered, only half believing what she was seeing.  
  
An older Hannah looked at her from her reflection. Blue eyes, dirty hair, feral grin.

Well, she'd seen the missing piece. Now she had to make them fit together to form a coherent image. Beka groaned and lay her head down on the table. Her temples were throbbing painfully. She couldn't think properly any more. It was too much… too big a picture to take in.

Looking up, Beka blinked, trying to clear her suddenly blurry vision. In the reflection, something shimmered, unfocused, a scene, echoed voices, a scream, yelling, howling, the voice of a child moaning in terrified misery, a hand, covered in blood, someone hitting the floor…

The vision was gone, and Beka felt ill.


	38. P4: Chap 38: Daughter of the Future

**Chapter Thirty Eight: Daughter of the Future**

Rhade nursed her stiff, sore arm, feeling the gash in it, gingerly. Trance had told him to keep it in a sling and refrain from using it as much as possible until the flesh knitted properly. She'd already sealed the wound, but it might open again very easily over the next few days, and starting the bleeding again would not be a good idea.

Poor Lieutenant Thompson… Rhade sighed and shoved the thought away. Getting depressed over the death of his crew mate didn't lend itself to self-betterment. Learn and move on. Learn and move on. That was what you did with death. It was all you could do.

"Hey."  
  
Rhade turned, twisting from his seat on the end of his bed.

A young Nietzschean girl was standing in the doorway of his quarters. She looked about… eleven, maybe twelve; bright blue eyes, strawberry blond hair that fell past her shoulder blades, impish mischievous features; she wore a plain red tank top, gene cut offs, and a set of battered old boots that were far too big for her. A set of half grown bone blades sprouted from her forearms.

"Hello," Rhade looked at her curiously. Where had she come from? One of their time travelling guests, perhaps? Certainly, there were no other Nietzscheans on board, and definitely no children.

The girl seemed a little unsettled, but she exuded an air of calm nonchalance, a kind of cocky confidence, that suggested she would have died rather than look surprised. "What did you do to your arm?" She asked, taking a few steps into his room.

Rhade glanced at his sling, "I cut it."

Her nose wrinkled up in a way that instantly reminded him of Beka, "you don't need a sling for a cut."

"It was a deep one," Rhade told her, "it might open up if I move too much. So, I have to keep it in a sling."

"You always over do things," the girl shook her head in an exasperated gesture, "mama says you like to play martyr."

"Do I?" Rhade was swiftly trying to piece together what was happening. This child… she must be from the future… dumped here by teseracts, probably only moments ago. And, in that future, she was familiar with him, was used to having casual conversations; their relationship would be such that she was comfortable enough to just drop by his quarters to talk. From what she was doing, Rhade realised, she probably hadn't recognised the time shift, and either didn't know he wasn't her Rhade, or was pretending it wasn't happening. He'd seen it happen with victims in horrific accidents from his academy days, when they were put into voluntary service as part of their training. The change in circumstances had been so great and quick that their minds couldn't bare to deal with it, so they simply ignored what they were seeing and acted as if it weren't happening.

"You do a lot," the girl went on, "mama says, anyway. And Trance says you do it all the time, not taking pain killers and stuff when you really should. Did you say once it was character building? Better for a Nietzschean way of mind… or something." She scuffed at the carpet with her boot and then trailed over to his window to pear out of it. "Hope's annoying."

"Hope?" That was Trance's eldest son, the leader of the time travelling group. So this girl came from his time, too? This was all just a little too surreal.

"Yeah," the girl sighed dramatically, "he's just so… what's… what's that word, when… when you're… like, selfish, but, but… um… like always expecting to be important or something?"

"Arrogant?" Rhade suggested.

The girl nodded, "yeah, that's a good word for it. He's _arrogant_. He never listens to what I say. Like the other day, when we were playing starships? He always gets the class niner cruiser, even though he knows that's my favourite, and he never asks the others what they want to play with either. It's like he just presumes we'll agree with whatever he does 'cause he's the bleedin' messiah!"

"Messiah?"

"You _know_," the girl waved a hand, "that prophecy about his birth, about how he's got this great destiny to save us all, or something. I bet he's making it up. Or exaggerating. No one saves the universe on his own. _Especially_ not Hope."

Rhade smirked. He wanted to ask her what her name was, but he didn't want to scare her, and if she were made to see what was going on she was likely to panic. She was twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, "you know, none of that family are normal. I mean, they're _sparkly_. That just can't be good for your brain cells."

"The Geminis?" He guessed.

She gave him a funny look, "who_ else_? I mean, look at Destiny! No one should be _that _hyper for that amount of time. She _never_ sits still. Ever. I don't know _what _Trident sees in her. Except maybe she's pretty and he… doesn't think he is. You wont tell Trident I said, will you? I mean, it's a guy thing. He doesn't like seeming vulnerable. You're a guy. You know how it is, right?"

"Sure," Rhade watched as she shifted again, running a hand over the wall and idly picking up a picture of his parents, sitting on his bedside table.

"Well, Care is kinda cute," the girl continued, "but all she does is gurgle and suck her tail. That, and she turns up everywhere. It's weird. You can't turn around without seeing her sitting on a corridor corner. I swear, that kid knows how to teseract or somethin'. You'd think Trance and Dylan would be able to keep hold of one eighteen month old baby star-person, wouldn't you?"

"I… guess…" Rhade answered, hesitantly. This was one addition to the Gemini family he had never heard of. A baby called Care? Trance's baby. _Dylan_ and Trance's baby. Did that mean that Dylan was the father of all of Trance's children too?

For the first time it came to him that what he could be hearing might be damaging to the time-space continuum. She had already told him that Dylan and Trance had a child in the future she came from. What if she accidentally revealed other things? More important things, pertaining to his own future? What if he had children? A wife? Beka…

Now that was a thought he really shouldn't be having.

But what exactly did one do with a small child from the future? Clearly, she didn't know how to get back. And he was damned if he knew…

"Still," the girl seemed to have changed tack again, "I guess Khayos is okay. He's quite nice, actually. Just a little… messed up, y'know? He has _issues_. But I've known him longer. Maybe that's the problem. Mama says you have to really _know_ a Gemini before you can get the gist of them. She says it was like that with Trance. It took _decades _before we got to the bottom of that riddle. And mama reckons we haven't finished yet."

"Keeps life exciting though, doesn't it?" Rhade remarked, finding himself compelled to reply. This child begged for conversation.

She giggled, covering her mouth, "yeah."

"And… if Hope is your friend, you could… tell him that you think he needs to… tone down his ego slightly," Rhade continued, carefully. He felt compelled to at least try to offer advise. She had clearly come here needing some, or at least a friendly ear. "Maybe he's just… arrogant… to cover up what he's really like. His people… do that a lot, don't they? Maybe who Hope really is… is much more bearable."  
She frowned at that, as if turning the idea over in her head, testing it for approval, examining the possibilities. "Mm. Maybe. I dunno. Yeah, I guess."

"Hannah? Baby, where are you?" The voice called from outside, affectionate and eerily familiar. Rhade looked round. Was it this child who had been brought into the past… or had he been brought into the future?

"I'm just in here, mama!" The girl called back, scratching at one of her bone blades. "I'm coming!" She ran forward and, quite unexpectedly, flung her arms around Rhade's neck, careful to avoid his hurt arm, kissing him on the cheek. "Thanks, dad."

Then she was gone, racing out the door to grab the hand of an unseen mother, and the blue light of a teseract swallowed everything around him, to leave him staring at the empty doorway.

Hannah was looking at him, curiously. The Hannah he vaguely knew, the time travelling, mildly psychotic, tattoo covered, gun wielding maniac, her head on one side. "Hey. Where you been, Nietzschean man?"

"You're Nietzschean too," he replied, softly, drawing a deep breath and struggling to comprehend the magnitude of what had happened.

She smirked, "yeah. Like a Nightsider's a Perseid. I'm a half breed, and you and I both know that most Nietzscheans wouldn't spit on me if I were on fire. The bone blades don't mean nothin'."

"Most Nietzscheans," Rhade was still struggling to catch up with himself. His mind whirled, his body stayed perfectly still. Was breathing really so important?

"What's left of 'em," Hannah shrugged. She began scratching at one of her bone blades, a little distractedly, "'course, the Great Messiah put paid to that and destroyed ninety percent of the population. Some saviour."

"Messiah?" Rhade blinked.

Hannah threw back her head and laughed. It was harsh and cutting, carrying a hint of something unbearably cold and detached. "Oh yeah," she shook her head, "the all powerful Tamerlane Anasazi! I wonder if his father would have been so eager to jump into the Abyss for him if he'd know what that _dear little toddler _would become. Sweet kid. Real sweet. Let's unite the Nietzschean prides, _by wiping them all out_." She laughed again.

Rhade shook his head, "why are you telling me this? What… what are you doing here? I… I…"

"We're screwing with the time line," Hannah shrugged, "we break it quicker, we get out of here quicker. It's suicide, so naturally I like it." A wicked gleam glowed in her bright blue eyes, and that feral grin flickered at the corners of her mouth. "So, what did ya see, Nietzschean man?"

"I saw…" Rhade struggled, opened his mouth, closed it, blinked helplessly at the young woman before him, then said, softly, "you are my daughter."

One half of her mouth quirked up, and she closed her eyes for a second. "Something like that," she told him, simply. "For a couple of years, anyway. Of course, you were dead before I really knew you. But hey, maybe we'll fix that."

Rhade could only keep shaking his head, in a vain attempt to clear it.


	39. P4: Chap 39: disAppearance

**Chapter Thirty Nine: (Dis)Appearance**

_AN: Alrighty, people, I'm back! Merry Christmas! Okay, I'll admit, I'm not happy with these chapters. I dont mind this one, it's the next I think is far too bitty and generally... ugh. But it's bassically just me shaking off the rust and getting going again. There'll be more after this, so enjoy these, and be merry!_

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Shailen was crawling around his father's workshop. Bits of grime and grit clung to the palms of his hands, and poked at his knees through the material of his old corduroys. Dust breezed around his nose, making him sneeze and his eyes itch, though, thanks to their circuits, they didn't water.

"Rommie," he asked, without looking round, "where did dad go?"

"He…" Rommie looked over her shoulder, down the corridor Harper had darted down a few minutes before, "he just went to find something. He'll be back soon."

Shailen continued crawling, beneath one of Harper's machines, peering up in fascination into the circuitry. "This is so cool, Rommie…"

Rommie watched the closest thing she had to a son as he went on his way. It seemed not long ago at all that his father had been doing nearly the same thing during his first few days aboard the Andromeda. But it was a very long time ago… twenty four years, three months, one week, five days, eleven hours, ten seconds, forty seven milliseconds, sixteen nanoseconds… she could keep on breaking it down into smaller and smaller time units, but there was no point but to distract herself.

"Gum-gum!"

Rommie snapped round.

There, sitting in the doorway of the machine shop, was a baby. A toddler, probably only just old enough to crawl. Her skin was a burnished lemon, her hair coppery-chestnut, and very curly, a wild lions main that stuck out at all angles around her head. A pair of pointed ears stuck out slightly from her face, and she was sucking on her tail.

Rommie gasped, "Care?"

The baby giggled with glee, clapping her hands, "gum-gum! Rom! Rom!"

Shailen shot out of his cubby hole, "what the… flaming Nora! Is that a _baby_?"

"That's not just any baby…" Rommie took a hesitant step towards the burbling toddler, willing her not to move, not to shift, "come here, Care. Come on… it's okay…"

"_Care_?" Shailen demanded. He had only vague memories of the baby, as he had only vague memories of any of his life on the Andromeda. He had been only four when it was destroyed, after all. But he sometimes heard Hope and Destiny talking about her, knew there had been a baby, a toddler, who kept disappearing, who had disappeared shortly before their home got destroyed. Dylan and Trance's youngest, conceived and born on the Andromeda… they hadn't been able to save her.

Rommie got within two feet of Care before, with a flash of blinding blue light, the baby vanished again. Rommie let out a snort of frustration.

"Where did she go?" Shailen asked, standing up.

Rommie shook her head, "I don't know. No one ever knew. Maybe she went back. Maybe this was one of the places she went when she disappeared. Trance… Trance had a theory that she had a natural ability to teseract. I was never… really sure how that might have worked. Apparently it's something star-avatars can be born with."

"But if she can teseract, she might have survived!" Shailen said, hopping from foot to foot, "she might still be alive somewhere!"

"That's what Hope wants to believe," Rommie was still studying the spot where Care had been, half expecting her to reappear. "And… I suppose… it's possible. But after six years… she could be anywhere… and it's unlikely that if she has been existing between teseracts all this time, she will ever re-emerge. Still… I… it would be… comforting to… see her."

"We just did," Shailen pointed out, touching Rommie's arm. "Where there's Care, there's… Hope."

He grinned suddenly, putting down his nano-welder. "We're gonna fix this thing, Rommie."

And before he could move, breathe, laugh, light erupted around the small boy, consuming him in humming, swirling crackling energy, so that he disappeared, and was gone.


	40. P4: Chap 40: Discussion

**Chapter Forty: Discussion**

Trident was quick off the mark to grab Beka before the teseract could swallow her, "stay close!"

Beka took a breath, letting the scarred teenager keep one firm hand on her arm, "what the hell was that?"

Trident shook his head, "teseract, and a big one. We need to get to the others. This is bad."

Trident had located his future… well, the woman who would one day produce his sister, on rout to Dylan's office. She seemed agitated, (not that Trident could blame her, given the circumstances). Now they were standing in a corridor, against a wall, half expecting it to open up behind them, as it well might.

"They're getting closer together," Beka muttered, rubbing her hands together, nervously, "you know what's happening?"

"Well, you know, little things," Trident shrugged, "time and space pulling apart at the seems. Nothing we can't fix." _God, I sound like Hannah…_

Speaking of which, the eighteen year old in question suddenly appeared around a corridor, probably dumped there by another teseract, pulling Rhade with her. "Trident!"

"Hey," Trident held out his hands to her, "did you see that?"

"Really big teseract destroying everything in it's wake?" Hannah raised her eyebrows, "it went that way. I think we just about ducked it."

"What's happening, Han?" Trident pulled her away from their parents.

Hannah shook her head, "it ain't good, that much is for sure. Teseracts that big are nothin' but trouble. We need to find Hope, and we need to get the hell out of here."

"You're telling me," Trident scratched at his burns a little distractedly. "What're we gonna do with them?" He jerked his head at Rhade and Beka, now standing a few feet away.

Hannah shrugged, "better keep 'em with us for now. Can't have the 'rents getting hauled into oblivion before we even get conceived."

"A little quality family time, huh?" Trident managed a grin.

Hannah gave him a dry smile, "just like old times, scarface."

A voice suddenly crackled over the intercom, "help! Help, someone!"

All four standing in the corridor looked up, "Rommie?" Beka questioned.

"Which one?" Trident asked.

"Shailen's gone!" Rommie's voice indicated clearly that the android was near panic.

"It's ours," Hannah said, "Rommie? Rommie, can you hear us?"

Hope's voice suddenly echoed through the corridors, "what do you mean 'gone'?"

"I mean _gone_!" Rommie sounded close to tears, "I mean a teseract took him! He's not on the ship, I've checked! He's not here, he's not… he's not anywhere! Oh God, my _baby_!"

"Rommie, stay calm!" Hope's order, "are you sure he's not on the ship?"

Andromeda's calm, droll mono-tone interjected, "my sensor's show that Shailen is not located anywhere onboard. I have scanned the entire ship from top to bottom. I'm sorry, but where ever he went, it isn't here."

"That teseract," Trident suddenly held up his hand, "was that it?"

"Then why didn't it take the wrest of us?" Hannah demanded.

A pause, then, "what if someone was controlling it?" Trance's disembodied voice, sounding almost eerie.

"You can hear us?" Hannah asked the air in general.

Trance's reply carried only a hint of dry humour, "I can hear _everything_."

"What do you mean, 'controlling it'?" Dylan's voice.

A pause, as Trance appeared to contemplate her reply, "remember I said something big was coming, Dylan?"

"Yes…"

"Well, I'm starting to think that our… visitors arriving… perhaps… wasn't it."

"_What_?"

A barely audible sigh, instantly recognised by her children as Trance's 'time-to-break-my-infinitely-more-advanced-understanding-of-the-universe-down-into-chewable-pieces-for-my-stick-insect-like-charges', "they didn't mean to end up here, did they?"

"Hell no!" Hannah agreed.

"Exactly," Trance sounded more confident, "what if their arrival was just an accident of something much bigger that's already happening? What if someone's controlling this? What if they've always been controlling it?"

"But who, then?" Hope demanded, "and why? And why do they want Shailen?"

"Who says they do?" Destiny piped up, somewhere in the ship, "maybe that was an accident too."

"Too precise to be an accident," Trance cut through, "someone's manipulating the time-space continuum, and whatever their objective is, things aren't going to plan."

"_Chaos_," This was Khayos himself, and there was something like relish hanging on the end of the world, "paradox. The uncertain factors. Time travel is not an exact science."

"Not by teseract, anyway," Hope was agreeing, "okay, what do we do?"

"Hey, you're the leader here!" Hannah cried, "that's your department!"

"We need to find Shailen!" This was Rommie, the future Rommie, still sounding panicked, "we have to find him! He could be… he could be…"

"Anywhere," Hope interrupted, "Rommie, we wont be able to find Shailen by _looking_ for him. Teseracts don't work that way. If you want to get somewhere you go in the opposite direction. If we want to find Shailen, we just have to wait for him to turn up. And he _will_."

"You can't be telling me there's _nothing_ we can do!"

"Rommie, you're an android, think _logically_!" Hope reasoned with the AI.

Silence for a few seconds then, a little calmer, "Okay. Alright, let's… what do we do?"

A long pause as various people all over the ship considered their options. Then Dylan's voice, careful and commanding, "all crew are confined to their quarters until further notice. I repeat, everyone except the senior staff are to return to their quarters and lock themselves in until further notice."

"Well, that's one lot of innocents out of the way," Trident offered, still scratching at his scars, "now what?"

"Saving the universe?" Hannah suggested.

Trident shrugged, "sounds good."


	41. P4: Chap 41: The Little Girl Between Tim...

**Chapter Forty One: The Little Girl Between Time**

AN: Okay, we're gonna deviate from the followed path to track our little Shailen for a few pages. Don't worry, he's okay, just a little confused. Happy new year, all, and review as you always do, my wodnerful readers!

stormsight: Thanks, I have more! ;) I did okay on my exams (screw up maths majoryly, though). Luckily those were only the prelims, the real ones are in four montha (urk!). I hope yours are okay, and enjoy the new chappie!

ANS4Christ: You wanna know what happened to Shailen? You're gonna love this chapter... Hope your Xmas was good, and happy new year! Read and review!

kaitins: Thank you! I'm glad you like Rommie in this. I'm a little anxious about it, 'cause I don't write her often, and I worry I get her out of character sometimes... Enjoy!

Pandora Kattalikis: Awww, I'm special... ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter!

shastalily: Thanks! Care has a bit of a role to play, as you'll soon be reading. Enjoy!

SomeoneElsesDream: Thank you! Hope I live up to expectations, here. Happy new year!

Oenone: Yeah, I know, like I said, I wasn't happy with the last chapter. But I am happy with this one, so I reckon it'll be better. Enjoy!

CeredwenFlame: Mess? Yes, it is, isn't it? I like messes. ;) But who says there's anyone behind it but their own foolish ghosts? Sometimes the source of a mess lies at the feat of the person farthest from it, and sometimes, it lies at the feet of the person dancing a jig in the middle of it. (Cryptic though that is, it is a clue as to who's behind this... ;) ) I hope you enjoy you enjoy this chapter, and keep reviewing!

L. C. Brotherton: Thanks for the comments! Are youa first time reviewer? I don't recognise your screen name... though I'm useless with names... ;) I'm gonan feel really bad if you aren't and you've been loyally reviewing forever (apologies in advance)! Welcome to this crazy little bandwagon, anyway, and enjoy!

Ann: My, my, you are perceptive, aren't you? Care is... uh... linked to Shailen's disappearance, though she isn't directly responsible for it... not yet, anyway, if you catch my drift. Read and have fun!

Jamieson Z: I'm glad your curious. Now _I_ have to work out who the manipulater is... ;) Happy holidays!

LadyV77: Haper's reaction... thank God I have imaginitive reviewers! I would never have covered that angle! Sometimes I go blind in my own plot-lines, y'know? Anyway, thanks for reminding me to characterise! Read and review!

prin69: Oh, Care's fine, believe me... ;) Thanks for commenting, Dylan does always have a plan, doesn't he? Well, I'm 'back in the groove', as you so eloquently put it, so enjoy!

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Shailen wanted very much to scream.

But he couldn't. There was no oxygen to take in, to push out, to convert into noise. No air to transmit the noise. No one to hear it. Nothing at all, in fact, except him, somewhere, anywhere, or nowhere at all. He had an impression of moving too fast, or perhaps very slowly, that he was tumbling, perhaps falling, but he felt sure he wouldn't hit the floor, felt sure there was nothing to hit. He was moving, but… but… through what?

His senses whirled, his circuits refused to compute what his vision told him, that they were nowhere, that they were in the _Between_, between time, between space, between teseracts, lost, doomed. _Like Care_.

He couldn't accept the possibility.

And before he could be forced to, he reappeared.

He was lying flat on his face, on something hard, but slightly warm. Metal, his sensors told him. A thousand compounds built into one solid plate which he was lying on. He ached, but an automatic scan of his innards told him nothing was broken or terribly damaged. Without moving, he kept scanning, seeking out the room around him.

A soft, regular clicking sound, which he felt in the air before hearing, came to his senses, followed by other, whirring, humming, electrical, mechanical sounds. But nothing lived here. Nothing moved, nothing breathed. Just a lot of machines, blindly doing their jobs. Nothing lived here, but him.

Shakily, Shailen pushed himself onto his knees. His hands were warm from the oddly heated floor. He could smell chemicals in the air, spilled by the machines and processed by filterers.

There were machines, everywhere. Calculating, he was fairly sure, but what, the boy couldn't guess. The room he was in wasn't large, either, but it was filled, cluttered, with every bit of machinery Shailen could imagine. Spare parts, or whole computers, wires and scrap littered everywhere, piles of clothes, too, like in the washing room of the Eureka Maru. And other strange things that looked totally out of place. Was that a _palm tree_? A cat? A _stuffed teddy bear_?

Where was he?

Getting onto his feet, Shailen took a few hesitant steps further in. The light was dim, a cosy, sort of orange glow filling the room, but he couldn't see the source. As he got into the main section of the room, he found himself looking at a wall along which seemed to be a viewing panel. Shailen stopped to stare, and once again found his circuits refusing to compute what he was looking at.

What _was_ he looking at?

It looked like a huge, four dimensional, much faster, much more complicated slip stream, that they were travelling through at immense speed. But that was impossible, and if he kept staring he knew something somewhere in his brain would malfunction, so he looked away, trying to block out the impossible view.

"Hello."

Shailen jumped violently, spinning round to find himself looking at a little girl. She was probably slightly younger than him, with blue-dusted gold skin, blue eyes and thick, wild, curly hair, pulled into a pony tail. She was wearing a man's check shirt like a dress (it came down past her knees), tied at the waist with a piece of string, and a pair of rainbow socks, scraps of leather tied round the feet for shoes.

She waved her tail at him and blinked, curiously. "What's your name?"

Shailen gulped, telling himself that fear, especially of this strange but completely harmless looking little girl, was irrational, "Shailen. Who… who're you?"  
She shrugged, "I don't know. No one ever told me who I was before."

"Didn't your parents ever give you a name?" Shailen asked, curiously.

The girl shrugged again, "I suppose… but I don't remember it. I wrote it down once, but then I lost the piece of paper, and I can't find it now."

"Oh." Shailen blinked. None of this was making any sense, "where are we?"

"Somewhere that is nowhere at all," the little girl said. "I know that one. I know a lot of things. But none of them are very useful. But I don't know what they're not very useful for. I've got some toffee around here somewhere, would you like some?"

"Okay…" Shailen followed her as she led him into the muddle of machinery and other miscellaneous items strewn around the room. "What do all these machines do? What are they calculating?"

"The time line," the girl told him. "A sort of count down, I suppose."

"A count down to what?"

"The end of the universe," The girl climbed on top of a chest of draws and retrieved a bag of toffee, then jumped down, "I think. I think. I told you, I know a lot of things, but none of them are very useful."

"When does the countdown finish?" Shailen asked, as a toffee was pressed into his hand.

The girl shrugged, "thousands of times."

"How can it end_ thousands_ of times?" Shailen demanded, frowning. Another calculation his circuits refused to accept. The universe was a singular thing. According to known data, before it there was nothing, and after, there could be nothing, therefore, the universe couldn't end more than once.

The girl giggled, chewing a toffee. "It just does, silly!"

Shailen was thoroughly bemused, and more than a little irritated now, "I'm not silly! It can't end more than once! It's an impossibility! You're not being logical!"

"Why not stamp your foot?" The girl suggested, "it always makes me feel better."

"But how to I get _home_?!" Shailen wailed, an irresistible wave of panic engulfing him. He scrunched his eyes shut and hugged himself, suddenly very cold and frightened. He wanted to go home. He wanted to get to the others. He wanted his friends, his brothers and sisters, his life. He wanted his dad. He wanted his mother. He wanted _Rommie_.

The little girl's hand gently found his, still with the toffee held in his fist. She worked his fingers open and pressed her palm over his. "Don't cry, Shailen. I'll look after you."

"I'm not crying," he sniffed, scrubbing at his artificial eyes with his free hand.

"Well, even so, here's a tissue," the girl produced a clean paper hanky out of nowhere and tucked it into the collar of his shirt. "I have a puzzle for you to do."

Shailen swallowed his panic and frowned, "what… what sort of puzzle?"

"Not so much a puzzle…" the girl began to lead him through the room again, her tail flicking from ankle to ankle. "It's… It just needs fixing."

Shailen found himself suddenly cheering up, in spite of himself, "I'm good at fixing things."

"I know," she skipped ahead and suddenly ducked beneath a slab of metal, one end of which was propped against an umbrella stand in the shape of an Elephant's foot, "that's why you're here."

Her voice echoed eerily. Shailen was suddenly afraid of that black gap she had disappeared into. There was something unending about it. He couldn't read any depth into it with his sensors, in the same way he couldn't see the girl when he tried to scan her. He didn't like not being able to categorise things.

"Come back!" He called, feeling that odd panic rising in the back of his throat again, "_Come back_!"

She reappeared, grinning, "I'm just here, silly. You are skittish, aren't you? But I've got it now."

"Got what?" Shailen stepped back to let her out, feeling relieved.

"The broken box," the girl reappeared fully, clutching an old cardboard box, and leading him back to the front of the room again, with the impossible viewing screen in the wall over head. "broken things go in here."

"Oh."

The girl fell on her knees, pulling Shailen down beside her, and turned the box upside down, spilling it's content on the floor. It looked like hundreds of pieces of a very odd jigsaw puzzle. Blue splodges of some kind of shiny metal, lined with strips of finely woven silver, linking each piece to the other. Except the pieces weren't linked. They were all broken apart.

Shailen studied them with intense curiosity. "What is it?"  
The girl shrugged, "I don't know," she toyed with a strand of curly hair, "I think I forgot. But it needs fixing."

Shailen picked up a piece, turned it over in his fingers, scanned it thoroughly, attempting to glean some clue as to what he was looking at. "It's like a machine…" he muttered, "like a circuit… or a part of one…"

"Good, good!" the girl jumped up and down, "see, I never would have figured that out."

Shailen sat back on his heals. "I can fix this. If it's a machine, I can fix it. But it's gonna take…" he shook his head.

"A while," the girl said, "I know. I know. I know so many things that aren't any use. But I still can't remember my name."

She looked so sad at that that Shailen had to feel sorry for her. How long had she been stuck in here? How long would _he _be stuck in here?

His gaze fell on a scrap of old, crumpled paper, lying amongst the pieces spilled on the floor before him. It must have come out of the box. Automatically, Shailen picked it up, looking at the single word written there in neat, curling script. Blue ink, estimate of six standard years old, paper was carbon, starch, synthetic poly-carbons…

"Is this your name?" He asked, holding out the paper to the girl.

"Oh!" The girl took it off him, suddenly smiling, "that's where it went!"

She studied the paper, frowning. "What does it say?"  
Shailen frowned, "how did you write your name down if you can't read?"

"I forget…" the girl handed the paper back to him looking apologetic.

For her benefit, Shailen read the paper out loud, "Care."

"Care?" The girl looked suddenly dreamy, "yes… yes… that was my name, wasn't it? That was what my mother called me…"

"You were lost," Shailen told her, matter-of-factly. "They thought you were dead."

"Who did?"

"Hope, and Dessi, and Khayos… your brothers and your sister." Shailen was still studying the paper.

"I have brothers…" Care murmured, "I'd forgotten about them. Blood of my blood."

"We can see them!" Shailen said, holding up the paper in one hand and a piece of the strange blue circuitry in the other, "if you help, I'm sure we can get back to them! Rommie said you can teseract by yourself, and that means you can get us out of here!"

Care placed a suddenly cooling hand on the back of his neck, "not yet," and her voice was soft, swimming, all around him, warm with persuasion and the force of a thousand, thousand unseen futures, "we have to finish the puzzle first. We have to fix the map."

Shailen nodded absently. "Alright," he agreed, feeling suddenly far, far away from his past, from anything beyond this, a moment, an eye-blink, a breath in his artificial lungs, "I'll fix it first. Then we can go. It wont take long. I'm good at puzzles."

"That's right," the little girl smiled and smoothed his hair, "and I'll take care of you."

"Mmm-hmm…."

"It's what my mother named me, after all."


	42. P4: Chap 41: Khayos to the Second Degree

**Chapter Forty Two: Khayos to the Secondary Degree**

AN: I'm back! It's mid-term, so I'm updating. My general policy with fanfic at the moment is to update after I've done everything else (meanign school stuff). This rarely happens, since I have actual Standard Grades and Int 2's coming up (the last set of exams were just prelims), and am pretty busy. However, I'm off for the week, so here's another chapter! (There'll be more, I promise).

Also, I made some character fanart for String and Chewing Gum, if anyone wants to see what I picture my characters to look like. This is refusing to let me put up a link, so I'll tell you to go to Google, search for Exisle Forums(it's an Andromeda base sci-fi forum, one of the best and biggest on the net), click on the first link google comes up with, go to the Artwork section, go into the thread called 'Magpie's nest of Wallpapers', then scroll down. The first one should be Hannah's. Good luck!

Fwe: Hey, new reader! Glad to have you on board. Anyway, as I've said before, this isn't _necissarily_ a Trance/Dylan story (okay, I know it seems that way right now, but trust me, things are about to get very interesting in that department... give it another chapter and a half, I think). So, enjoy!

SomeoneElsesDream: Another curve ball will be thrown in due course... -insert wicked grin here- Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Artemis1000: Another new reader! Thanks for stciking in there and taking th etime to read this! And as for Khayos... well... I'm not gonna give anything away, but let's say his parenthood isn't really as confirmed as he thinks it is. ;) Hannah's pretty close to my heart too (she's become a bit of an alter-ego of mine over the past year), and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the wrest.

stormsight: Well, I'm updating now. Angels and Stars I'm putting on the shelf for a while. I've decided not to update the prequels until I'm done with String and Chewing Gum. So, enjoy!

squid109: I'll take that as a compliment and say thank you!

Pandora Kattalikis: Here's an update, so enjoy!

shastalily: Yes. Can you tell I didn't plan Care? ;) She just popped up of her own accord and refused to go away, thus changing my entire plot structure... but, what's an author to do? Enjoy!

CeredwenFlame: Ah, strange little girls. What sci-fi fic would be complete without them? And she'll help alright... anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last!

Irishclover: More, my happily chanting friend! Have some! And if you enjoy it, come back and tell me:D

Amanda: Care... well, she's a little off. She has the universe at heart, but... uh... it's not really her own agenda she's working, so much as her mother's. It's a little complicated, but we'll get more on that later. And the map is another complicated little plot twist we'll eventually get to. Hope you stick with us to read about it!

Harper's Pixie: Thanks! Here's some more. Care will be popping up at erratic intervals, so keep an eye out. ;)

LittleRedhead: Shailen and Care are... well, integral, shall we say, to the survival of the universe. But I'm saying no more. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

prin69: LOL who wouldn't want to hug Care? She's just so cute! Anyways, have fun reading:D

Oenone: Thank you! Not quite soon, I suppose, but at least I'm updating! So, enjoy and review, and I hope you have fun!

Jamieson Z: Interesting is good. And the plot will get... twisted. Not that it isn't already... ;) Anyway, enjoy!

Mishell: My heart is leading this story on an ever twisting contortion of... weirdness. But that's sound advice! Thanks!

L. C. Brotherton: Thanks! I hope you like this chapter as much... And I'm glad you think my OCs are believable, it's so easy to wonder down the dreaded path of the Mary Sue. ;)

LadyV77: Hey! Glad you're still withme!Oh,Care's creepy alright. She has a little agenda up her sleeve, but we'll cover that later. So, enjoy the chapter!

Beka Valentine Rhade: I don't know whethe ryou've reviewed yet either, but thank you for doing so! These reviews are my life blood! So I hope you enjoy the next chapter and please keep reviewing!

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Dylan, his head beginning to pound from the pressure of something, _something_, building somewhere outside of his consciousness, watched the teenaged girl fluttering around his quarters.

"We have to move soon," Destiny told him, picking up a flexi from his desk. "But it'll take a while, for things to get moving, you know?"

"Not… really…" Dylan raised his eyebrows.

Destiny offered him a sympathetic smile, "it's a little confusing, I know. But you'll get used to it."

"I don't think I'm _ever_ going to get used to this sort of thing," Dylan told her. He remembered the picture he'd seen in the future, the little girl with her arms around his neck. He was Khayos's father. Would be. Was he Destiny's?

Destiny put her head out of the door of her step-father's quarters, scanning the corridor beyond for unseen enemies. Without looking, she held out her hand to Dylan. "Here. Nearly time to go."

Hesitantly, he took the hand proffered to him. "Where are we going?"

"A thousand places." Destiny told him. "Whatever you do, Dylan, don't let go."

"Don't let go?"

She squeezed his hand, "hold on tight, okay?"

He nodded, "okay…"

"On three."

"On three."

"One… two… three!"

Two paces into the corridor, a teseract erupted into life, glorious, blue and silver stars and suns, life and chaos and something terrible, something wonderful tearing them apart.

And then Dylan was falling, falling, faster than he would have thought possible, head over heals, tumbling. Destiny was nowhere to be seen, and he was heading straight into the slipstream core, _this is the way Hohne went!_, struggling to breathe as the air was whipped away from him, mind scrambled as he realised he was going to die, he was going to die and there was nothing, absolutely_ nothing_ he could do.

A pair of arms locked suddenly around his waist. A body, lean and lithe and strong was pressed to his back, a blinding flash finding him deposited… in the Maru?

Dylan gasped for air and stumbled back, off-set by the sudden nauseating shift in time and space, the horrible blur of falling and moving. He found a metal wall at his back and slid to the floor, wresting his head on his knees. That had been _far _too close for comfort.

Only after a few shaky seconds did it dawn on him to look for his rescuer. He sat up properly, raised his head, tried to take stock of his surroundings. This was definitely the Maru. He was sitting in the cargo hatch. Or… or something very like it.

And sitting opposite him was a Nietzschean woman.

She was probably in her mid twenties, honey-coloured skin and dark, uncombed hair pulled back off her odd, angular face, out of the way of a pair of curiously intense brown eyes.

She wasn't the prettiest creature he had ever laid eyes on, but she was definitely unusual.

"Uh…" Dylan struggled to find his voice, "what… was… that you?"

"Was what me?" She enquired, voice soft.

"I was about to fall into a slipstream drive and now I'm here…?" Dylan moved his hand in a forward motion.

A cat-like smirk graced her features, "no." She stretched long, bony arms over her head. "Khayos?"

"Hang on a second!"

A vaguely familiar looking young man leapt into view, swinging round the corner to avoid some unseen obstacle, large, bare feet barely touching the floor. He landed with surprising precision, and dusted himself off.

Here Dylan stopped and did a double take. This was definitely Trance's second son (_his_ son), and yet it clearly wasn't. The boy he was looking at wasn't a boy at all, but a fully grown adult. The last traces of adolescence had been shaken off, leaving a tall, serious, athletic looking young man, thick black hair in dreadlocks down to his shoulders, bare-chested under an old trench coat and baggy trousers, a Wayist medallion hanging round his neck. His jaw was squarer, his face more defined, eyes set with a kind of purpose that said he knew what he was doing. Dylan was looking at a Khayos who was perhaps ten years older than the one he had originally met.

"Dylan," Khayos smiled, in a way that made him look uncannily like Trance.

"Hello, Khayos…" Dylan eyed him warily.

Khayos extended a blue, slightly sparkly arm and helped the Starship captain onto his feet. The Nietzschean woman remained seated.

"You… saved me?" Dylan asked, after a few second.

Khayos nodded, "let's say that I… have a gift."

"Right…" Dylan raised his eyebrows.

"We're just trying to find a safe place to put you back," Khayos explained, "I found the right place alright, but… well, the universe is falling apart around there. It's a tricky business. Like threading a needle with wool."

"Do I get a hand?" The woman interrupted, raising an eyebrow at the blue star-avatar.

Khayos smiled. It was an odd smile. Dylan thought he could see some of the cynicism he had witnessed in the teenager still lingering about Khayos's eyes, but there was a gentleness about him now, and some kind of wisdom that must have come with years, or perhaps Wayism, that suggested Khayos was now much more than he had once been.

Khayos helped the woman back onto her feet, lingering closer to her for perhaps a tad longer than was strictly necessary, before walking back down the corridor. "Come! I'll show you!"

"Typical," the Nietzschean rolled her eyes, "doesn't even bother with names!"

"I'm…"

"Dylan Hunt," the woman smiled and shook her head, good humour lightening her features, "I know. He talks about you a lot."

"Does he?"

"When he's feeling nostalgic." She shrugged, "but I'm Atalanta, by the way."

"Nice to meat you," Dylan took the hand she offered.

They had followed Khayos into some kind of Bridge. It didn't look like the Maru any more, but a room with a view screen at the front, two circular consoles taking up the bulk of the room. Khayos was crouched on top of one, eying the results the other was churning out.

"Hmmm…"

"Hmmm?" Dylan questioned. "Is that good?"

"Signs are hazy, ask again later," Khayos waved him off.

Dylan raised his eyebrows at Atalanta who shook her head. "He's infallible, times like these."

"I see…"

"Got it!" Khayos held up a hand, "Devine be praised, we're in!"

Atalanta looked impressed. Clearly, she saw something the meaningless churning of figures and symbols the consoles were pouring out that Dylan didn't. "I don't think the Devine has anything to do with it, Kay. That's just skill."

"Or luck," Khayos thrust a dreadlock out of his eyes, "but whatever we have on our side, it's working overtime."

"So… you can put me back?" Dylan asked.

"Just about," Khayos nodded. "It was a close call the first time round. We knew where you'd be thrown out, we just didn't know when. Poor Destiny. She gets better at this, she really does, but she's just a child."

"I'm sure."

Atalanta seemed to find something about this amusing. She was smiling again, leaning against a wall.

"Okay," Khayos had dragged a piece of paper from somewhere where one of the consoles were feeding it out, and examining it intensely, "we need to be… mmm… hmm… okay… no, no, not… right, yes… alright…" he broke off and looked at Atalanta, "what do you think?"  
The Nietzschean shrugged, "hey, I'm just along for the ride."

Khayos smiled again, something fond in his blue eyes. "Right."

Dylan was led along another corridor, out of the consol room, down a ladder, through another set of corridors… this wasn't the Maru. Bits of it were. But a lot of it seemed not to be. It was confusing, but he was starting to think that whatever this ship was had been built out of several others, the Maru included.

"Here!" Khayos came to an abrupt halt. "This'll do."

"Here?" Dylan looked around. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about the corridor he was standing in.

"Give it a few minutes…" Khayos nodded, satisfied. His hand went to the Wayist medallion around his neck, and he locked his fingers around it.

"Khayos," Atalanta looked suddenly nervous.

Dylan, feeling unexpectedly as if he were intruding, backed away and turned to inspect a particularly fascinating section of wall.

"Khayos, be careful," Atalanta begged, softly, a rare show of open affection as she grabbed both his hands.

"I'll be okay, Ati," Khayos promised, drawing her fingers to his lips, "I'm a pro, remember?"

"We're dealing with teseracts, Kay," Atalanta replied, urgent and uncertain, "they're _not_ an exact science, remember?"

He silenced her with a gentle kiss pressed to her lips, "I'll be _careful_, okay? Promise. Like I always am."

"Right."

"Say you believe me," something in Khayos was begging for her trust, something she would never truly give him.

"I can't." She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

He sighed, hurt, but not entirely surprised, "I love you, Atalanta Anasazi, and I always will. We'll have our daughter. We'll have our safety. But something inside this relationship is already broken, do you see?"

"It was never fixed," she whispered, "how can it be broken?"

"Point." He agreed, and kissed her again. "I'll be careful."

"I'll believe you when you come back the same man twice."


	43. P4: Chap 42: Fatal Interuption

**Chapter Forty Three: Fatal Interruption**

AN: Yeah. I'm back. And here comes the plot twist...

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Destiny was deposited at the feet of her older brother with a painful yelp.

"Dylan!"

"You lost him," Khayos stood over her, his voice flat.

"I lost my grip!" Destiny moaned, burying her face in her hands.

With a sigh, Khayos helped his younger sister onto her feet, "It's okay, Dessi. We'll find him. And if we can't, I'm sure Mother will know where he is. She always does."

"Yes," Destiny looked suddenly distant, "I suppose she does."

Khayos was reminded suddenly of the dormant spirit of his mother residing in Destiny. He shuddered.

"So," Harper, hovering nervously behind Khayos, with both Rommie's in tow, interrupted, "uh… where are we going?"

"And what did you mean 'you lost Dylan'?" The Present Rommie demanded.

"He'll turn up!" Destiny was suddenly back to her normal, perky self. "Don't worry!"

"Don't worry!" This was the future Rommie, "first Shailen and now Dylan and you're telling me not to worry!"

"I have to say I do find the pattern slightly disturbing," her counter part put in.

"Seriously, _don't_ worry about Dylan," Destiny shook her head, "he'll be fine."

"You sure about that, little sister?" Khayos raised a knowing eyebrow at his sibling.

Destiny smiled innocently, "of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Great." Khayos sighed, "come on. Where _are_ we going, just as a matter of interest?"

"Hey, hey, wait for us!" Harper hurried to catch up with the pair. The two Rommies exchanged looks, then went after him.

They were only half way down the corridor when a teseract swallowed Geminis, Harper, most of the corridor, and left the androids alone.

"Uh… Rommie?" Harper looked back.

"Shhh!" Destiny grabbed the engineer, clamping one hand over his mouth and yanking him down behind the stack of crates they found themselves next to.

"What the…" Khayos ducked down with them, looking round, "where the hell are we?"

"For Devine's sake," Destiny hissed, "keep quiet! This isn't good! This isn't good at all!"

"I gathered!" Khayos craned round to look round the boxes. "Is this the cargo bay?"

"Yup," Harper, who had prized Destiny's hand away from his mouth, confirmed, "but I ain't never seen it like this before."

The cargo bay doors of the Andromeda were open, revealing grassy slopes, a sunny day in a valley of some kind. The cavernous insides were light and airy, like a warehouse with only three walls. It was full of old boxes, crates, ship parts and engines, old computers. Crates had been lined up with a sheet thrown over them to make a kind of long work-surface at the back, covered with plans, blue-prints and flexi's. This had been turned into someone's work shop.

Of more significance, perhaps, was the fact that Trance was standing in the entrance, sunlight pouring in around her back. Wearing a dark blue shirt covered in intricate embroidery, the sleeve-cuffs consisting of gauzy petals of cloth, a pair of lighter blue leggings under that and boots. Her hair was lighter than Harper remembered it, and slightly curly, more like Destiny's.

She had a bag in one hand and was looking about her curiously. "Seamus?"

The engineer in question appeared from under a stack of old computer parts.

Harper watched with an odd fascination as slightly older version of himself made his oil-stained way across the room, raking hands through a mop of wild blond hair, and grinning a welcome, "hey, Trance."

Trance smiled slightly and proffered the bag, "I brought you a sandwich. Thought you might be getting hungry up here."

"Rommie told you to make sure I ate, didn't she?" Harper took the bag off her.

Trance shrugged, looking innocent, "she… might have said… something along those lines."

"She'll never stop taking care of me, will she?" Harper asked, pulling the bag open, "yes! Sparky cola! Trance, I love you!"

"I know," Trance gave him a knowing look and wondered further into the cargo bay.

"This is the future, right?" Harper, the one hiding behind the boxes, asked the Gemini siblings.

Destiny rolled her eyes, "do you ever remember the Andromeda being grounded?"

"No…"

"Then yes, I'd say this is the future." She looked back, intent on the scene unfolding before them.

"Our past," Khayos put in, "this must have been before I was born, when mother was still living on that farming planet with fath- I mean Dylan."

"Before you were born…" Destiny frowned slightly. "But that means…" Suddenly her eyes widened. A look of sheer horror passed across her features. "Oh… no. Oh no. Oh, God, we have to get of here!"

"What?" Khayos looked up, "why? I mean… what's the sudden rush?"

"Kay, trust me, we need to get out of here _right now_!" Destiny took her older brother by the shoulders, "you need to teseract us out of here!"

"Teseract-" Khayos broke off, "but I can't, Dessi, that was Care's gift, not mine!"

"It was yours too!" Destiny hissed, urgent desperation in her voice, "you just couldn't access it as readily because of your… because of your father! How do you think you could navigate the field so easily!"

"How do you know?" Khayos asked.

Something bright glinted behind Destiny's eyes. Her expression twisted. Suddenly her fingers latched tight onto Khayos's shirt collar. "_Leave, my son_!"

Khayos felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. It was his mother's voice, dark from so long trapped in the back of Destiny's mind, but definitely Trance, taking a rare moment to rear out of her daughter's heart.

Destiny fell back, back to into herself, her breathing hard. "How do you think I know?" She whispered, her voice trembling.

Harper blinked, "what the hell was that?"

"Long story," Khayos muttered.

"Suffice to say, I'm suggesting we take her advice," Destiny said, "trust me when I say, if we stick around, the consequences could be very, very bad, for everyone, _everything_ that has ever existed, do you understand?"

"Loud and clear," Khayos was still rattled.

Before them, Trance and Harper were continuing oblivious to their unwilling audience.

"So, I've been thinking about how it could be done, y'know?" Harper was showing Trance a plan laid out on a long roll of paper by his work bench. "I mean, it'd be difficult but… Doyle thinks it's possible, anyway. Rommie's kinda sceptical, but she's always sceptical."  
Trance was inspecting the plans, "it's interesting, Harper."

Harper sighed, exasperated, "on, come on Trance, give me something here! Should I try? Is it worth it? Can this work?"  
Trance put a hand to her forehead, "you're talking about creating a sentient life form, Seamus, it's not a straightforward process."

"Tell me about it," Harper rolled his eyes, "I did build Rommie, not to mention Doyle. It's not like _that_ was easy."

"But this is different," Trance ran her fingers along the paper, "this a baby, we're talking about. An organic being. It wont be easy, Seamus."

"Of course not," Harper waved his hands, "what I need to know is whether or not I should try! Come on, Trance, reach into that crystal ball of yours and throw me a bone!"

Trance shook her head and turned her back on the plans, leaning against the workbench. "I can't tell, okay? My vision's a… a little off, today. I don't feel so good."

"You're sick?" Harper blinked, "you never get sick."

"I'm not sick, exactly," Trance rubbed her hands together nervously, "I'm just a little… blind."

"Sure?" Harper hopped onto the work bench and sat, swinging his legs. "You seem kinda tired lately."

"It's just… taking care of Dylan." Trance tugged distractedly at a strand of hair. "I worry."

Harper put a gentle arms about her shoulders, "you're too nice, you know that, Trance? You never give yourself any slack. Dylan's not about to throw himself off a cliff. You could leave him for a day. Get off planet, take a break."

"I can't," Trance hugged herself, "I couldn't, not now. Not right now."

"Hopeless…" Harper shook his head.

There was a long silence, each contemplating their respective lack of fortune. After a while, Harper broke it, "can I ask you something, Trance?"

"You could try," the avatar shrugged, then grabbed his hand to prevent him taking his arm from her shoulders.

Harper thought for a second, then began, "are you happy?"

Trance frowned, "what sort of question is that?"

"I… I was just wondering," Harper hastily tried to explain himself, "you know… you just don't… seem… I mean, is this what you want? Really? Stuck on a planet with a manic depressive, an engineer and a couple of androids?"

"It's some peace," Trance said, simply, "that's all I've ever wanted."

Harper pushed himself off the work bench and wondered away a few paces. "Right. Right. Yeah, I know. It's… it's not my place to go round questioning motives and stuff."

Trance stayed where she was. There was an odd air of bitterness hanging between them. Something unsaid and unspoken, a friendship stained by something altogether more unpleasant.

"I never…" Harper swung round suddenly, clearly struggling to find the words, "I never said anything, Trance. I never let it interfere. I never tried, not with you and Dylan, to… to… I would never… I couldn't, 'cause I knew, I _knew_, you were happy, okay? I never let it get in the way… I never tried to make things bad but… Trance, look me in the eye and tell me you're happy."

"Seamus…" Trance looked pained.

"Tell me you're happy!" Harper flung his arms in the air, "Trance, this can't be good for you! You're tired, you're weak, I never… I never see you smile any more."

"Don't!" Trance shook her head, "don't start, Harper!"

"I've never said anything before!" Harper shook his head, "but Trance… Trance, for God's sake, look at you!"

He came back to her, his hands on her shoulders, staring at her until she turned her head away, not meeting his eyes. "Trance…"

"Seamus… Seamus, don't." Trance shook her head, "I love him, I do."

"Do you?"

"_Yes_…" She closed her eyes, breathing the word like a promise.

"Then how come you come you're here, Trance?" His voice was soft, suddenly, pleading.

Trance looked at him, her lower lip trembling, she looked away again. "Harper, please don't do this."

Harper pulled her close, a tight embrace that they both clung to, breathing hard. Trance pressed her head into the engineers shoulder. "I can't see, Seamus. I can't see how this turns out."

"Maybe you're not meant to," he replied.

Trance shook her head, "no. There's something wrong. Something very, very wrong. Something's coming and I can't stop it and it's going to change everything and there's _nothing_ I can do."

"Sometimes change is good," Harper reminded her.

"This one really, really isn't." Trance sighed, "oh, God, Harper, what are we going to do?"

"This is screwed up, Trance."

"I know."

They pulled apart. Trance was tearful, clearly drained, her fingers shaking as she absently straightened Harper's shirt collar. Harper took her fingers into his, then kissed them gently.

Almost instantaneously, Trance put both arms around his neck and kissed him, close and clinging and furiously passionate. Needless to say, Harper didn't seem about to protest.

"Oh, God," Harper, the Harper behind the boxes, went pale.

Khayos's eyebrows had disappeared into his fringe. Destiny looked close to vomiting, "Khayos, seriously, we need to move_ now_."

"I don't know_ how_!" Khayos turned on his sister, exasperated.

Unfortunately, his voice rose a little louder than was perhaps wise. Harper and Trance broke apart, startled. Trance, breathless and gasping, shook her head, clamping both hands over her mouth, "oh… oh… this can't-"

She broke off and ran, racing from the startled engineer, out of the cargo bay and away before he could stop her.

"Oh, no!" Destiny began to tremble, "oh God, what have we done?"

"What?" Khayos looked up.

"Now!" Destiny flung herself at Khayos, taking Harper's hand as she did so.

All three of them disappearing in a flash of blue light.

They were deposited back in the corridor, to find Hope standing over them. "What the hell happened to you three?"

Destiny looked awful. She was trembling, her eyes wide, her breath short and gasping, "oh God, oh Devine help us, oh we are so screwed oh-"

"What?" Hope hauled her onto her feet, "Dessi, what happened?"

Khayos got back onto his feet, slowly and painfully, "well, I think we've safely established that there a certain things about mother's past I don't want to know."

"What?" Hope looked confused.

"You're not the only one who'd rather not know," Harper looked almost as ill as Destiny.

"Hope, we have a major, major problem," Destiny rubbed her hands together, biting her lip.

"What?"

Destiny took a deep breath, "I think we may have just interrupted Khayos's conception."


End file.
